I'll Teach You to Dance
by monochromeheartbeat
Summary: Three years after graduation, Santana Lopez and her roommates, Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry, attend a dance class in NYC. Follows most of the events in Glee if Brittany had never gone to WMHS.
1. Give it a try

It wasn't until the music cut off that I realized how lost I'd been. I felt my body stagger to a halt, and my head jerked up to look in the mirror. A tall, lean Asian gave me a smirk from the back of the room, holding my iPod in his palm as he shook his head.

"Sorry to interrupt your jam session, but my class is supposed to start soon," he said as he set the iPod on top of the speaker he proceeded to unplug it from. It only took him a few long strides before he was standing next to me. I stood up straight and sifted my hand through my hair, but immediately felt the need to slump forward as I realized how tired I was. My hair was damp and I peeled my shirt forward to unstick it from my skin.

"Oh, man, what time is it?" I said quickly, whipping my hair as I spun to look up at the clock. It took me a moment to read it, because I had to remember the rules of which hand meant minutes and which one was hours. My eyes bugged and I spat, "Shit, it's past five already?"

Mike's lips pressed together as I looked up at him. The corners of his mouth twitched in the all-too-familiar way I recognized as someone trying to keep from laughing. My lower lip puffed out and my forehead crinkled. I knew immediately I read the clock wrong. I was relieved, because I didn't wanna miss the bus again, but at the same time, I didn't like the look Mike gave me. He was new to our dance studio and this was maybe the second time I'd interacted with him directly. He seemed nice. I didn't want him thinking I couldn't tell time correctly. I've never really used an analog clock.

Mike had said something, but I must have been caught up in my own thoughts, because I hadn't heard what he said. He stared back at me as I continued to hold my wide-eyed stare. I softened as I noticed he was smiling, and concluded he must have corrected my mistake.

"Sorry for running into your time slot," I huffed, tugging on my top back and forth to fan myself. "I'll let you get to it, Chang, but next time, you're going to have to dance for the rights to my turf!" I stepped backwards, a cheesy grin on my face. Mike's smile widened into a toothy grin and confirmed that my error in telling time was forgotten.

"Oh, you're on, Pierce," he laughed. He stepped forward to the front of the room and gestured behind me, and I noticed a second too late that the motion was made for his students. A sharp breath escaped my lips as I felt a solid object stop me from my backwards movements. I quickly and awkwardly spun around to apologize to the girl I had nearly knocked over, but the girl barely acknowledged anything had happened. My mouth hung open slightly as she swerved around me and caught up with a short haired blonde.

"-you didn't tell me Mike taught the class," I heard her hiss. She sounded angry. I kept my eyes focused on her as other people brushed passed me to line up on the dance floor.

"Isn't that better?" the blonde girl replied. Her voice was softer, but still managed to hold a hint of annoyance. "You didn't have to come with us, you know."

"Ladies, let's stop fighting for once and just have fun, okay?" a brunette spoke as she stepped between the two and placed her hands on their backs to push them gently along. I almost snorted into my water bottle when I noticed her. She was the shortest of the trio, and her outfit was the most ridiculous. The Latina was wearing sweatpants with NYU printed on them and a tank - a reasonable choice that the short haired blonde mimicked almost exactly, but with reverse colors. But the brunette was wearing a bright pink leotard with neon green leggings. It wasn't a fashion choice that was entirely unreasonable - I'd be willing to bet such an outfit wouldn't look so bad on someone else, but she just seemed a bit intense. Despite the brunette's bright colors, my attention was drawn back to the Latina.

"We weren't fighting, Berry," the Latina sighed with a pained expression. Maybe it was the eye roll she made when she turned away from the brunette, but I couldn't help but think she felt the same about the girl's tone of voice as I did about her color scheme.

I slid to the ground and crossed my legs and watched on silently, sipping my water as Mike called out instructions for warming up. I don't know why I sat there for so long. I guess part of it was that I hadn't really seen Mike dance yet and I wanted us to be friends. I worked mostly during the week though, and since Mike's dance class was set to be on the weekends, we weren't going to be seeing much of one another. But something else was keeping me grounded. As Mike began to break down the dance the class was going to learn, my eyes shifted back to the Latina. She followed along, trying her best to mimic Mike's moves, but the gestures were jerky and unsure. I noticed she kept looking to her right or left to see how her friends were fairing, and I had to admit, they were doing a lot better than she was.

"This is such bullcrap," she uttered when Mike called for a break. She staggered to my far right and hastily grabbed a bottle from her bag.

"I don't know how you managed to be co-captain of the Cheerios, Santana," the blonde snickered, nudging with her elbow.

"Shut it, Fabray," Santana grimaced before taking a gulp of water. "That was like, three years ago."

"But what about all that dancing we had to do for glee club? Just because you can't do a split anymore doesn't mean you should be this bad at dancing," the blonde teased.

"I can still do splits," Santana shot back at the Fabray girl.

"Santana, you were doing fine," the brunette interjected. "And Quinn, may I remind you that we were just as bad when we started last week?"

"Racheeel," Quinn said with a whine, "Do you always have to do that? We're joking."

I lost interest in their conversation as Quinn and Rachel began to discuss Rachel's habit of interrupting what Quinn claimed to be playful banter at most while Rachel insisted they were fights. My eyes drifted to the side and stared at the last member of their trio. Santana just stood silently, probably grateful no one was making fun of her dancing anymore. Mike interrupted them when he called for line ups again, and I looked up to the mirrors so I could see the group from the front rather than from behind. Again, I sought out the Latina without really thinking about it. I was so intrigued by her, even if she couldn't really dance very well. I wasn't even focused on her jerky movements or how she stepped incorrectly as she attempted to follow along. My attention was drawn to how her brow furrowed slightly with frustration or how her jaw clenched every time she fell behind. I didn't realize the intensity of my leering until her eyes rose to the mirrors and met mine. She seemed caught off guard by the contact, and I froze, holding my gaze until i panicked and tore away. But not before she fumbled a step and bumped into Quinn.

I scrambled to my feet and gathered my things quickly while I heard her snap a sharp, "Shit!" She was disoriented and pushed Quinn away. I left before she got her footing back.

* * *

><p>"Brittany, hurry up." There was a pounding on the door, and the abruptness of it made me get shampoo in my eyes. I don't even know how that happened, but I clamped my eyes shut and ducked my head into the stream from the shower head. It was too late, my eyes were burning. I quickly rinsed my hands free of soap and pressed my fingers to my face, rubbing at my eyes until they felt well enough for me to open them again.<p>

"Gimme two minutes," I shouted, quickly scrubbing my scalp under the water. I scanned the shower for my conditioner and quickly squeezed a glob into my palm.

"I have to pee, c'mon!"

"Jenna! Just come in if you've gotta go so bad!" I said, digging my fingers through my hair as I stepped away from the water so I could lather on the conditioner properly. There was a moment of silence and I rolled my eyes. I never understood why everyone was always so uncomfortable with nudity. Besides, it wasn't like my roommate had to see me. There was a curtain.

"Don't look," her voice came, louder, so she must have come in. I chuckled, and let out a low whistle meant to be a cat call. She let out a shrill squeak and then batted the shower curtain. "Shut up and shower."

"But Jen, now I'm almost done. You better hurry before I finish, or else I'm gonna peek," I teased as I dove back under the water to rinse out my hair. I heard her scramble up and the toilet flush.

"You're gross," she said.

"You're the one that just peed- Ah!" I shouted abruptly as the water got hot. Our apartment was kind of old - so when she flushed the toilet, I got the negative effect. I quickly turned the shower off.

"Get out or you're gonna see me nakeeed," I called, stretching my hand from behind the curtain and wavering it around as I made exaggerated attempts at finding my towel.

"Brittany!" she squealed and ran out.

I wrapped myself up in the towel after scrubbing myself dry and stumbled out of the bathroom.

"Put some clothes on, weirdo," Jenna said, clamping her hand over her eyes as I came out in just the towel.

"I forgot to grab clothes when I went in," I shrugged. It wasn't a lie, but I also hadn't expected her to be home. Not that I walk around without clothes on, but I didn't think it would be an issue. I dashed past her and ran to my room. The moment I closed my door, I heard her holler a 'Thank god'.

It took me a minute to change, but in the time it did take, I began to wonder why she was home. I like Jenna, don't get me wrong. We've been roommates for almost two years. But because of that, we know each others schedules pretty well, and I was positive she had work on Saturdays.

"Hey gurlfrahn," I said as I flopped onto the couch in the living room. I had pulled on pajamas, but had left my feet bare. I wriggled my toes as I playfully kicked her arm.

"Ew, Brittany, gross," Jenna laughed, trying to grab ahold of my ankles to get me to stop. After a few seconds, I did, and turned to look at the TV.

"What is this?" I asked as two girls on the screen shrieked and shouted while pulling each others hair.

"Jersey Shore, I think," Jenna said. She started flipping through channels.

"Hey, how come you're home so early?"

Jenna froze. I didn't expect her to suddenly look so petrified. Was something wrong?

"You didn't lose your job, did you?" I asked abruptly before I could think of a nicer way to phrase it. I stared as Jenna's expression shifted. At first her lips parted, cracking into a grin, and she snorted while shaking her head. Then she stopped, her mouth falling back into a sad frown. She opened and closed her mouth a few times to speak, but kept getting stuck.

"What happened?" I said, nudging her gently. I wanted to show that whatever it was, I could handle it.

"I- Brittany, I got, um." Her lips spread into a grin again, wider this time, but her brow remained furrowed like she was going to cry. Yes, that was it. She as really happy - so happy. "I got a job in L.A.!"

"Oh. My. God," I shouted, snapping back for a quick second before jolting forward to wrap her in the biggest bear hug I could muster. I pulled back, gripping her shoulders. "We totally have to celebrate! Oh, gosh, when? How? Jenna, I'm so proud of you! Why didn't you tell me immediately?"

"I found out today," she started, laughing. "I don't know, soon? I've got to..." Her smile faltered. "Brittany, I got a job in _L.A._" She stressed the last bit of the sentence and stared at me. I think she was trying to guard herself by letting my figure it out on my own. I think she didn't want to give a direct blow. But once I realized what she meant, I sank back, and let out the softest oh.

Jenna was moving out.


	2. Our Rock

Santana Lopez was not accustomed to expressing joy without the pretense of sarcasm beneath her grin. But the three other girls in the kitchen were screaming and shouting so excitedly, she couldn't help the goofy smirk that had spread across her face.

"Tina! That's my pot, put it back!" Rachel said, a flurry of bubble wrap adorning her lap as she shoved a glass in with others in the cardboard box in front of her.

"No way, Rach, this is totally mine!" Tina said, pulling the dish out of reach.

"Rachel, it's a wok," Quinn started laughing loudly again.

"And I can't have one? Just because Tina is asian doesn't mean I can't own a wok," Rachel protested, reaching forward to grab the deep frying pan.

"Yes, it does, Berry, because you're vegan and don't even eat anything you could cook in that," Santana said, rolling her eyes, but couldn't conceal her smile. They were all sad that Tina was leaving, but the excitement of packing was leaving them somewhat giddy.

"That is not true! I eat tofu! You can make tofu stir fry!" Rachel spouted and then suddenly began listing all the things she could make with a wok.

"Fine, keep it, even if it is mine," Tina said to stop Rachel from ranting any longer. "Mike's mom probably sent him enough cooking utensils for both of us."

"I still can't believe you're moving in together," Rachel said sadly. Instantly the smiles disappeared from the girl's faces and they appeared to slump in silence.

"We're really gonna miss you," Quinn added, leaning over to give the asian's wrist a gentle squeeze. "You're kind of our rock."

"Rock?" Tina said quizzically. Santana leaned back, her brow raised in confusion as well.

"Well, with Quinn and I always trying to one up one another and Santana and Quinn's constant bickering-" Rachel started.

"-we don't bicker, Berry, why can't you just understand the nature of our relationship?" Santana scoffed.

"-regardless, Tina, you've always been the most stable and sane person in this household," Rachel continued, giving Santana a sharp glare before softening at Tina.

"You guys act like I'm never coming back," Tina laughed. "I'll see you guys all the time. I still work with you, Santana, and you guys all started going to Mike's dance class. Plus he lives like 10 minutes away. I'm more worried about you guys finding a new roommate."

No one said anything for a while. In the roller coaster of emotions from being both happy and sad for Tina to move out, none of the girls appeared to have thought about getting a new roommate. They definitely couldn't afford to continue renting their four bedroom apartment without Tina, even if she paid the least. She quickly assured them she was going to pay her share of the next months rent to hold them over until they found a suitable replacement.

Rachel stood up, scattering the bubble wrap and news papers to the floor as she scooted through the mess to the island countertop in the center of the kitchen. She rummaged through the mess and found a pad of paper and pen before turning back to the girls.

"Well, we should start listing what kind of roommate we all agree to look for," she nodded, writing 'Roommate Requirements' with a heart next to it at the top of the page.

"Can't we do this later?" Santana whined, cramming another plate into the box in front of her. Compared to Rachel's strategically placed and organized box, Santana's was a disaster. "I want Tina to leave on a happy note, not some sobfest of us realizing no one is a good enough replacement."

"Aww, Santana..." Tina said, her eyes fluttering as she placed her hand on her chest in an exaggerated manner. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Well," Santana said with a light shrug, "It's not like I hate you."

The girls laughed. Santana had always been abrasive, but she had softened severely since they had started renting the apartment together little more than a year ago. After what Santana claimed was an excruciatingly painful experience with on campus housing with a socially incomprehensible mess of a roommate, she had been so overjoyed at the prospect of rooming with Quinn, even if she had to live with Rachel Berry as well. It was actually kind of a huge surprise Quinn asked her to be roommates. Apparently Yale wasn't all that it was cracked up to be, and luckily the determined blonde had managed to transfer to NYU with some of her credits in tact. She had to make up some classes over the summer, but if anyone could keep up academically, it was Quinn Fabray.

It was a miracle to be rooming with familiar faces, really. Santana had gotten hit with the realization that things could always be worse, and it was definitely a perk to be living with her best friend from High School. Rachel still didn't seem to get their friendship - who could blame her? Quinn and Santana had been so cut throat at each other over boys and the Cheerios captain position in High School, Santana had questioned their frienemy situation herself. But through all the fights and drama of cheer camp and glee club and boys, they had always managed to keep their friendship going. It just worked, somehow. And now that high school ended, popularity wasn't as important as before. Santana couldn't bring herself to hate Rachel the way she used to. She even kind of liked her, when she managed to keep her mouth shut for long enough.

Things were different with Tina. Quinn and Rachel had always been closer to her, but with Tina being a year younger than them and never in the same social standing as Santana, they had rarely interacted. But it was true - Santana didn't hate Tina. And there had been several instances where Tina managed to get her back. They had a quiet sort of friendship that evolved after Santana got Tina a job working with her at the bar a few blocks away. It had been a simple gesture, but one that had solidified their friendship.

"If we don't start working on finding a new roommate immediately, Tina's support for the rent will be gone before we know it," Rachel said.

"As much as I don't want to sour the mood, Rachel's right," Quinn nodded. "And besides, Tina is the most objective of all of us and can keep our craigslist add concise."

"Craigslist? What?" Santana said, shock evident as her eyes widened. "Ew."

"How else do you want to find a roommate?" Rachel said quizzically. "Do you know anyone you'd want to ask? And no boys, Santana!"

"Ughh..." Santana stood up and sauntered towards the pantry. "Fine. But I'm not doing this sober - I can barely stand making a grocery list with you." A bottle of wine appeared in her hands and she quickly arranged four glasses on what little counter top space she could find.

"Oh yes, write a craigslist add for the future equilibrium of this apartment while intoxicated. That's a brilliant idea, Santana," Rachel said. It was her turn to roll her eyes.

"I think a glass couldn't hurt," Tina said and slid up next to Santana. Although the latina was notorious for drinking excessively, sometimes to the point were she became so overcome with emotion she was insufferable, Tina was aware of a badly hidden secret none of the other girls seemed to have caught on to yet. Santana was a lot nicer with some alcohol in her.

"And this is why you're my favorite," Santana said, clinking a glass with Tina. "Seriously, boo, Rachel, why can't you be the one to move out?"

"You know exactly why," Rachel said, stiffening. The mood shifted harshly as Santana realized she had implied Rachel move in with her boyfriend, Finn Hudson. The unfortunate circumstance was that Finn had moved to L.A. last year to continue his studies because the New York branch of AMDA only had a two year program. It was putting quite a strain on their relationship, but the girls had learned it was best to leave Rachel alone about it unless she brought it up.

"I meant your bestie NYADA buddy Kurt is still looking for a roommate," Santana said quickly to cover up her error. "And I was joking, gosh, Berry."

"Kurt is a boy, Santana," Rachel said, but her tone indicated she had forgiven the latina. Santana let out a soft sigh of relief as she turned back to the wine glasses to finish pouring Quinn and Rachel's glasses.

"And he's capital-G gay," Santana said while swerving to hand Rachel her glass. "He's more of a girl than I am."

"Well, Santana, you could stand to care a little more about your skin," Rachel said defiantly. "Seriously, Kurt's regimen has been a life saver to my pores."

Santana gulped back some of her wine to curb the blow Rachel made at her skin. What the hell did she mean? Her skin was flawless. Maybe it wasn't as soft as a babies buttocks like Kurt and Rachel deemed it necessary, but she had a bomb tan and silky skin. Whatever, she thought to herself. She didn't want to continue on this topic, since it was still so dangerously close to the topic of Finn.

"So, roommate requirement number one: cannot have a night time skin routine that interferes with one Rachel Berry," Santana said, leaning against the island countertop and tapping the paper with a perfectly manicured nail.

"Roommate requirement number two: must be able to endure the insufferable personality that is Santana Lopez' snarky attitude," Rachel spat back.

"Guys, can we take this seriously?" Tina said, snickering into her own glass. "Here, honey, why don't you stand a few feet that way so I can jump in and save Rachel when you try to rip out her throat."

Santana was guided back, and she nodded quietly. She distracted herself by downing the rest of her wine, catching Tina's eyes before the asian rolled them.

"I think we should list the qualities we like most about Tina being our roommate, and go from there. We can add our personal preferences later," Quinn suggested, still sitting on the ground, covered in newspaper.

"Must be asian," Santana said quickly. "Write that down."

"And like vampire movies. Oh, Twilight," Rachel giggled.

"Ew, no, Berry, I'm not living with another Twihard," Santana said.

"I meant things like how Tina always keeps to the cleaning schedule or pays rent on time," Quinn said with a sigh. She exchanged a tired look with Tina. The asian smiled sympathetically.

"Don't be interuptin' our workflow, Fabray," Santana hissed, waving her arm carelessly in Quinn's direction. She was already halfway through a second glass of wine, and Quinn stifled a laugh. "Must be able to sing glorious melodies in the shower," the latina continued.

"And harmonize with me while baking cookies," Rachel laughed. "Vegan cookies, that is."

"Right," Santana ignored the last statement, and twirled to bump hips with Tina. "And shake her tush."

"And grin and bear how stupidly goofy you two are," Quinn laughed as Santana grabbed Tina's hands and started to pull her into an over the top dance routine around the kitchen.

"And I thought you said you were doing badly in Mike's class," Tina said between giggles.

* * *

><p>After several hours of goofing off, a few impromptu dances, and at least two more glasses of wine each, the four girls managed to make their roommate requirements list. Tina made the three promise to wait until they were sober to post it, but also not to correct it too much just because it was a funny list. She gave them all hugs and the promise to return tomorrow for the rest of her things. Quinn and Rachel disappeared to their bedrooms as Santana walked Tina to see her out safely.<p>

"Santana, you will be okay alone with them, right?" Tina asked as she pressed her back against the wall of the elevator.

"Alone? With who?" Santana said, wavering a bit as she fumbled with the buttons for the floor selection. Tina reached forward and pressed 'G' and then curled her arm over Santana's shoulder.

"Q and Rachel," Tina said. "With me leaving?"

"I don't wanna talk about you leaving," Santana mumbled.

"Aw, are you really going to miss me? I thought you were Santana Lopez, hard ass bitch from Lima Heights Adjace-"

Santana twisted and curled her arms around Tina, pulling the girl into a tight hug. Tina let out a silent gasp and then slowly hugged her back.

"Of course I'ma miss you," Santana said in a hoarse whisper, and Tina was positive she was about to start sobbing.

"Shh, it's going to be okay," Tina said soothingly and stroked the latina's hair. "Forget I mentioned it, I know you'll miss me."

"You'll stop by every day, r-right?"

"Maybe not every day," Tina laughed.

"Then at least come to dance classes with us," Santana insisted. "I'm so terrible, Tina."

"I thought you didn't want any more witnesses to that," Tina laughed.

"I don't... but I want to see you more than just at work." Santana pulled out of the hug to wipe her eyes.

"Santana, I'm moving a few blocks away. I'm not even going to be 15 minutes away," Tina said firmly. "If you want me to come to dance classes with you guys, I can try and fit it in my schedule, but I don't know if I want to take a class my boyfriend is teaching."

"Yeah... I get that," Santana nodded, trying desperately to piece herself back together. "Okay, but you have to come over for movies or drinks or at least dinner once a week. Rachel's almost convinced Quinn to start her stupid vegan diet, and I need some defense in that department."

"Okay," Tina nodded. The elevator door popped open, and Tina gave a small smile before walking out with her arm linked to Santana's. "Well thank you for seeing me out...! That was very kind of you!" She pretended to curtsy by dipping her head down.

"Anything for my home girl," Santana mustered a laugh. She gave her a tight hug and whispered, "Miss you."

"Not leaving you," Tina said back. "Just having a permanent slumber party at my boyfriend's place."

"Girl, get up on that," Santana laughed.

"Please at least stop hugging me before we discuss me having sex with Mike," Tina said.

"Go, just go. You're no fun," Santana said, pulling away from the hug and shooing her away by flicking her wrists.

"Santana..."

"Go on, get out of here!" Santana said, but she was smiling.

"Call you later," Tina waved.

"Text me. When you're home."

"Of course."

Santana returned to the apartment, still a little grim looking. She was still feeling sorry for herself and losing Tina, but nearly crashing into the couch snapped her out of her mood. She cursed and continued to stagger into the kitchen. She looked down at the dining table and saw her open laptop next to scribbled on pads of paper and a few empty glasses of wine. Glancing at what was on the page they had drafted for their craigslist add, a smile reappeared on her face. She spun around, off to her bedroom, carrying her laptop and dragging the cable along behind her as she stumbled down the hallway. She read over the roommate requirement list again, quite proud of their work, and decided there wasn't any reason not to post it. The sooner, the better. Hadn't that been Quinn and Rachel's argument anyway? Without a second thought, she submit the craigslist add, closed her laptop, and rolled into her bed to get some sleep.

* * *

><p>I couldn't sleep. Not a wink. I was really happy Jenna got a job - she graduated a year ago, and hadn't been able to find anything stable. We had managed to get by the past few months thanks to part time jobs and rent control, but we both secretly knew this day was coming. But I didn't think she'd be leaving New York. That made me all kinds of dizzy. She had to leave in a matter of days, and she knew it was going to hurt me by leaving, but she couldn't offer any help financially - the rest of her savings were going into the move.<p>

What was I going to do? I didn't have enough money to keep our apartment. Should I look for roommates? With the added cost of utilities creeping up as well, I couldn't figure how I would be able to afford the wait of finding a roommate. I shot up out of bed and scrambled to my laptop. If I couldn't afford to stay here, I would have to look for somewhere else to live, and soon. I'd managed to have a stroke of luck the last time I searched craigslist when I landed this apartment, so I decided to start there. But being on my own? I guessed I would have to look into room shares instead of just apartments.

I felt a headache coming on as I was reminded how lucky I was to get the rate I had at this apartment. Everything in New York was expensive, but luckily Jenna had managed to soften the blow by being my roommate. Still, with utilities and everything, I was still paying over $700 a month.

I spent a few hours scrolling through listings, growing more and more disheartened as I went on. I replied to two that I thought might be promising, but the asking amount for rent was higher than I pay now for both of them. There was one that was super low, but it was from a couple of guys looking for a 'Super hot female roommate'. Something about a Saw. I don't know what that had to do with anything, but there was a picture included of some guys. One of them had a mohawk.

I was about to give up and start getting ready for the day when I decided to refresh the listing for good measure. My heart nearly skipped a beat. I clicked on the new link.

$650 Looking for Female roommate!(utilities and internet)!

Room available ASAP!

Looking to complete our quartet! The room is furnished with a desk and a dresser! (Bring yo own bed - S) The apartment is in a convenient location, safe, with a ton of cafes, bars, restaurants, 24 hour delis, a grocery store (that has plenty of vegan options - R), and close access to subway routes (convenient, seriously - Q).

You will be sharing with three other girls (Q, S, and R). Q is majoring in dramatic arts at NYU, S is studying ReMu there too, and R is something at NYADA (Musical Theater, S

- R). Right, musical theater. Something about dancing and singing and being a big big star. We're pretty awesome, but our super fantastic resident asian is leaving us.

( :[ - S)

If you fit the following qualifications, we might just let you live with us hot bitches.

Roommate Requirements: (It's like the room of requirements! - R) (Shut up, R - S)

-U must be asian

(No, she's joking - Q)

(No I'm not - S)

(She is - R)

-Tolerate R's stupid Vegan diet

(It is not stupid, and no one is forcing you to, S - R)

-Adhere to our annoying cleaning chart

(You don't even fit the requirements, S - Q)

(I live here already, bitches - S)

-Dance and/or sing. No exceptions. This is literally the most important thing.

(It's fine if you don't, really - Q)

(No, I agree with S, we need to keep the balance of talent - R)

(Shup, I'm right - S)

-Pay rent ON TIME

(NO EXCEPTIONS - S, R, Q)

-Non smoker

(So gross - R)

(Cigars are OK - S)

(No they aren't, S! - R)

-No dogs

(Cats are OK - R)

(Ugh - S)

(Cats are cute, though, S - Q)

-Be okay with impromptu musical performances varying from broadway musicals to disney movies

(Wicked! - R)

Mama Mia...? - Q)

(Poor Unfortunate Souls - S)

(That's not a movie, S - R)

(It's a song from a movie, R. Shut up - S)

GOOD LUCK BIATCH - S

S... that's mean - R

Stop being so lame, R - S

Sorry about them - Q

U WILL LOVE US

(I will miss them - T)

I snorted. Loudly. I couldn't keep from cracking up, whoever these girls were, they were hilarious. It had started out fairly serious, but then got ridiculous towards the end. I wasn't sure if the ad was real or not, but I supposed it couldn't hurt to reply. I quickly typed an email, saying how I was a dance major at Juilliard and that I totally love The Little Mermaid and I was sorry I wasn't asian. I made sure to mention Lord Tubbington - my cat - but I was unsure if cats were really okay. I hope that wasn't a deal breaker. I hit submit and closed my laptop. I had like fifteen minutes to get ready or I'd miss my bus to get to class on time.

* * *

><p>"You're looking for a new apartment?"<p>

Jenna sat across from me, pausing with her subway sandwich held half way between the table and her mouth.

"'eah, ah' kin'a haf' to," I said, my hand overing in front of my face as I spoke with my mouthful. I gulped and continued, "I mean, you're not giving me much notice."

I didn't intend that to sound mean, I didn't, but Jenna looked kind of hurt. She took a small nibble of her sandwich and didn't say anything else.

"I think this one is promising, but there weren't any pictures listed or anything. The girls that live there are all into theater and music," I tried to remember more specific things, but I could only remember the comments. It made me wonder if they were going to make me audition for the role of their new roommate.

"Ugh, that might be awful," Jenna said as her nose wrinkled. "They'll probably try to make you teach them dance moves the whole time and then criticize you for how much harder their majors are."

"But I like teaching dance," I said with a shrug. "I mean, I already do teach it. And, I don't think I would argue with them if they said they work harder."

"Brittany, you work your butt off. Literally," Jenna frowned.

"I know, I just mean... it's not hard when I love what I'm doing." I smiled and continued to eat, and Jenna gave me one of those rare 'You're smarter than you look' smiles she gives me sometimes.

"When you're right, you're right, Brittany," she nodded. "Just make sure you call or text me before you go to any of these apartments so I know to call the cops if I don't hear from you after."

"I don't think a troupe of singing girls are out to kill me," I laughed.


	3. Believe in me

"Santana! Why did you post it with all those comments? No one is going to take that seriously!"

Rachel was fuming. She started yelling about how Tina had made them promise to proof it before posting it, and that meant proofing it when they - specifically Santana - weren't drunk. The latina rolled her eyes and gently shoved Rachel away from her computer.

"We can repost it, Rachel," she said, her voice sharp as if threatening to say something more. She wasn't in the best mood right now - her morning class went horribly because she had drank more than anyone else last night. Because she was nursing a hangover, she didn't find her record mixing class entirely helpful. She couldn't stand trying to listen to her mix for more than five minutes at a time, let alone two hours.

"Do me a favor, Rachel," Santana said as nicely as she could muster. "Calm down and breath and stop yelling at me for something that isn't a big deal."

Rachel opened her mouth to retort, but slowly closed it. She looked Santana over and realized she looked rather terrible for once. Usually Tina was there to help remedy Santana's hangovers. Plus, she had to admit, as irritated as Santana looked, the latina was doing her best to stay civil. Santana had come a long way since High School.

"Fine, Santana. But if it doesn't get any replies by tonight, then we're going to take it down and put a new one up-"

"Hold up," Santana said, raising her hand lightly. "Take it down? We already have a reply."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you started yelling about all the comments." Santana looked at her with a tired expression. "We can't take it down now... Then again, it hasn't gotten any other replies."

"So reply to the email, tell the person our address so we can set up an interview, and then take down the ad so we can look for serious candidates," Rachel said as she slid out of her seat to busy herself in the kitchen.

"...I still like this version of the ad," Santana muttered. "If they can't get our humor, they shouldn't want to live with us."

"There is a difference between our humor and you being drunk, Santana."

Santana read over the email again now that she had talked to Rachel. It was brief.

_Hi!_

_I saw your ad - if you're still looking for a roommate, I'd really like to be considered. I'm a dance major at Julliard. I really really LOOOOVE the Little Mermaid. And I'm so sorry... I'm not asian. But I have a super cute cat named Lord Tubbington. Let me know if I can meet you guys._

_-Lucky Biatch_

Santana had laughed the first time she read it. The second time, she just smiled. She liked that the girl had responded to the commentary of their ad. It made it seem more like she was interested in them as people rather than just a low rent cost. But she wasn't completely sold on the cat. Sure, Quinn and Rachel wanted pets, but Santana had thus far only allowed a goldfish. His name had been Ben - he died a week after they set up his tiny one gallon tank. It had been empty ever since.

She quickly typed a response to the email, giving the girl their address and a time she was welcome to stop by that they would all be available.

"Rachel, what does Tina usually give me to help with a headache? It's not some weird chinese medicine thing, is it?"

"Santana, Tina is adopted, she's not _that_ asian," Rachel said and set down a glass of water in front of her along with a bottle of medicine. "She usually gives you aspirin."

"Right," Santana said quietly.

* * *

><p>"You told her to come over tonight?" Quinn said, exasperated. "How were you even sure we'd all be here? Or that she'd respond back?"<p>

"Mondays are the only weekday we're not all busy in the evening," Santana said. "And I'm not getting up at butts o' clock to meet some stranger wanting to live with us."

Quinn's lips pursed together to hold her tongue. A cranky Santana was definitely worse than coming home with hardly any time to prepare for an interview. She had wished she had more time to clean up - not that Santana was doing anything to help.

"Get up," Quinn barked. "You could at least help."

"She's not gonna care if there are dishes in the sink, Quinn," Santana said. "All she's gonna care about is that there is a vacant room and wireless internet."

"Even though I agree with Quinn that you should be helping more, Santana, I think you have a point," Rachel said. "And I'd much rather have a casual setting than some unrealistic expectation that our apartment will be perfectly clean all the time."

"It would be perfectly clean all the time if Santana didn't do what she's doing right now!"

Santana stared up at Quinn from the couch, a bag of potato chips tucked next to her sprawled out body, her arm hanging over the side of the cushion onto the floor and her long dark hair cascading at a similar angle. She had been watching TV until Quinn's sudden appearance blocked her view, but she was doing her best to pretend she had x-ray vision and see what was going on via sound.

"Move your _caboose_," Santana said, flicking a potato chip at Quinn. Her eyes widened for about half a second before they narrowed.

"Oh no you didn't, Lopez," Quinn hissed. Santana stared up at her and then tapped her chest from her half hanging position off the couch, making the threatening 'bring it' gesture while still looking so casually lazy it must have been hard to take seriously. But that was probably what made it all the more surprising when Quinn lunged at her.

"Don't say that!" she shouted, crashing down on the latina with all her weight. Santana had managed to rescue the bag of potato chips in time, but gasped out as Quinn pinned her to the couch.

"N-nice way... of reenforcing that, Fabray. By sitting on me. _With. Your. Caboose._"

"You're gonna get it, Santana!"

The shouting made Rachel rush into the room. The tone of their voices was loud and terrifying, like that one time they got in a cat fight in high school over the head Cheerio position and Santana's breast implants. "Girls-" Rachel started, but she didn't seem to be able to say much else as Quinn had suddenly started tickling Santana.

"Stop! Fabray! I. Can't. Breathe! Get. _Off!_" Santana shrieked between laughs, kicking at her best friend until she managed to wriggle free. "Fine... I'll... go... do the dishes..."

"Yeah, you better, Lopez," Quinn called after her with a laugh. There was a small buzz that made all three girls freeze. Silence for a moment, then, another buzz.

"Is that our doorbell?" Rachel asked.

"Dang, lucky bitch is early," Santana said, looking over at the clock on the microwave.

"I'll get it. San - your hair," Quinn said, pointing up at her forehead before dashing to the buzzer to let up the prospective new roommate.

* * *

><p>I stood outside pressing the buzzer for the apartment, and after a few rings, I was scared I had written down the address wrong. I began fumbling with my pockets to find my phone so I could check my email to be sure when suddenly a soft voice came from the box.<p>

_"Hello?"_

"Uhm, hi!" I said as cheerfully as I could. "I'm Brittany? I responded to your craigslist ad this morning?"

_"Brittany? Okay. I'll buzz you in. You know the number?"_

"313, right?"

_"Okay."_

The buzzer went off, indicating the door unlocked. I pushed it open and wandered into the lobby. It was really nice - a lot cleaner and better maintained than the lobby to my apartment complex. The mailboxes all had key locks to them - mine had a combination I could never remember. I suppose I could just as easily lose the key, but I thought it was a more effective system. I made my way to the elevator and pressed the third floor once I was in.

As I ascended, I suddenly started to feel nervous, even if the voice on the intercom had sounded so sweet and kind. What if they didn't like me? Or if it was a scam? I jumped when the elevator door opened. Why was I being such a scaredy cat? I'm Brittany S. Pierce. I can do this.

I was just gathering my confidence back together when the door to apartment 313 opened as I stepped up to it. All that courage I had gathered up pretty much shattered and I stared doe-eyed at the blonde girl in the doorway.

"Are you Brittany?" she asked. I recognized her, but I wasn't sure where from.

"Q, let her in," a voice called. It sounded familiar as well. Not familiar like I'd heard it all the time, but just... like I had heard it before. On a show or the radio or something.

"Yes, I am," I answered to the blonde. She looked at me quizzically, and the door opened a bit wider so she could gesture me in. Once I was inside, I froze again. I kept getting caught off guard. There was the latina, her attention directed to a mirror hanging on the wall as she played with her hair. And the short brunette... she was wearing pink pajamas with bunnies on them. She looked completely bizzare, but then I remembered. I remembered those brightly colored work out clothes. That was it. I recognized all of them from Mike's dance class.

"Oh," I said before the three said anything. The latina had just turned to greet me, but stopped short at the sight of me. Did she recognize me? For a moment, I swear she did, but then she spoke.

"I'm Santana," she said, her brow pinching slightly. She turned and waved at the brunette and then the blonde. "Rachel, Quinn."

"O-okay," I nodded. I tried to recompose myself, I really did. But I think my eyes gave me away - they tend to do that.

"Are you alright?" Rachel asked.

"I'm fine," I nodded. "I was just... confused. Uhm... this is such a nice apartment. I'm sorry if it seems forward, but did I read the ad right?"

"You mean the amount we're asking for rent?" Quinn said with a laugh. "Yeah, it's the right amount. We all pay a bit more, but that's because our rooms are bigger."

"So you're a dancer?" Santana asked sharply. Her eyes narrowed, and I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable under her gaze.

"I am. I'm a student, but I also teach at Dark Dance Studios over-"

"-on 5th avenue?" Rachel said. "Oh! I knew we recognized you."

"You did?" I said, puzzled.

"Hold up," Santana said. "You work with Mike?"

"I do," I nodded.

"Mike Chang."

"Yes."

"Mike Chang of Cohen-Chang-_Chang_?" Santana stared at me with her arms crossed. Was this a test? I was so confused.

"Stop scaring her, Santana," Quinn sighed. "Just because she knows Mike doesn't mean she knows Tina. Sorry, Brittany. Mike is a friend of ours from high school - his girlfriend is - or was - our roommate. The one we're trying to replace."

"Oh. Oh. So, uhm," I started, but I really didn't know what to say. "This is a weird interview. You're not going to ask me to dance, are you?"

"Dance?" Rachel asked.

"It's one of the roommate requirements," Santana said, her lips cracking into a smile. I was glad she did. So far, she had been the one that made me the most nervous. "So check, dancer girl has a job. Meaning steady income, meaning rent will be on time. Right?"

I nodded.

"She can dance, obviously, since she works with Mike. What else was on the list?" Santana asked, and Rachel stood up, shuffling around the island in the kitchen I could see from the living room.

"Uhm... I don't smoke," I said, scrunching up my face as I tried to remember what was on the list.

"Okay, check," Santana said, taking the list from Rachel. "You said you have a cat in the email?"

"His name is Lord Tubbington," I nodded.

"Adorable," Quinn and Rachel said in unison. Santana glanced at them one at a time before sighing.

"Okay... Ah, break out musical performances. Shit, did we really write that?" Santana's nose wrinkled.

"So do I have to sing?"

"This isn't an audition, Brittany, it's okay. Sorry, we were sort of drunk when we put up the ad," Quinn explained, lowering her gaze to the ground. She looked sort of embarrassed, but I didn't know why. I loved the ad.

"Okay," I nodded.

"If these losers give you chores to do, you promise to do them?" Santana said.

"Of course - unless it's something weird. I don't have to do other people's laundry or anything, do I?"

"Ew, no," Santana said, but smiled again. I liked it when she smiled. She looked back down at the list and made a clicking sound with her tongue. "I'm sorry, girly. You ah gots ta go." She pointed her hand towards the door.

"What?" I was taken aback by how direct she was.

"Yeah, says here you gotta be asian," Santana shrugged, but then her sly eyes met mine and she smirked.

"Who says I'm not?" I asked. Santana froze, her smirk disappearing as her lips pursed together. I thought for a second my joke had been misinterpreted, but then her head tilted back and she let out a loud laugh.

"I like her," Santana said immediately. I smiled and looked back and forth between Quinn and Rachel.

"I was fine with her the moment she said she worked with Mike," Quinn said honestly.

"Same, I think we just wanted to make sure you passed the Satan test," Rachel said, snatching at the list in Santana's hand. The latina pulled it away and slapped the brunette's hand with the rolled up pad of paper.

"So... does that mean...?"

"You can move in with us, if you want. Unless you think we're too weird. You haven't even seen the room yet," Santana laughed. "Come on, we'll show you around."

* * *

><p>The apartment was literally perfect. When you walked in from the front, you could either head straight and go upstairs, or veer right to the living room. Past the living room was a sizable kitchen that had a dining room to it's right and a washroom past the pantry to the left. Up stairs consisted of the four bedrooms and a bathroom. There was also a bathroom beneath the staircase, but it was tiny in comparison.<p>

Tina's old room was smaller, but still large enough to be more than accommodating. Like the ad had said, there was a desk and a dresser, both matching, and a vacant space where a bed used to be. Santana explained that Tina took it with her because Mike was still sleeping on a twin size, otherwise she would have left it. Across from the door, there was a large window. Santana leaned forward, struggling for a minute with the clasp, and then shoved it open.

"Your room and my room have access to the fire escape," she explained, waving for me to step forward to take a look down. "You scared of heights?"

I shook my head.

"Good, 'cause Quinn and I sometimes drink out here," she smiled. "Berry's too scared."

"Fire escapes are for _emergencies_," Rachel said from the doorway. "And what if I drop my phone? Or fall?"

"Lady Gaga danced on a fire escape," I said with a shrug. "It can't be that dangerous if you're supposed to use it for an emergency."

"I- I suppose so," Rachel said.

"Great, so you'll come out?" I said, lifting my leg up and through the window. Santana caught me by the shoulder. Her grip was firm, but also somehow soft.

"We're not technically supposed to hang out there, we usually wait until the evening so our landlord doesn't see," she explained and I pulled my leg back.

"Oh, okay. Maybe later, then?" I was a little disappointed, but I didn't want to get in trouble either. "Speaking of the landlord, do I have to uhm... sign any paperwork?"

"Quinn has the apartment in her name - we all pay rent to her, sign a roommate agreement contract thing," Santana nodded. "We can go do that now? Unless you wanna look around some more first."

"Uhm, can... can I have a moment to myself? This is all a bit overwhelming," I said sheepishly. I was super glad they wanted me to be their roommate after such a quick interview, but I needed a moment to think it over.

"Oh," Santana said quietly. She looked kind of surprised, like someone had snuck up on her, but she nodded. "Yeah, we'll be in the kitchen, take your time."

The three girls walked out, leaving the door open and me alone in the empty bedroom. I looked around slowly, taking in the space again now that I was by myself. I dropped to the ground and sprawled out across the soft white carpet. There was a fan on the ceiling I hadn't noticed before. I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. It was weird. Different. But nice. And good. I still wasn't sure if it was legitimate though. Something made me uneasy about the apartment.

No, it wasn't the apartment. It was the people living here. They were all so friendly and nice, but that was just it. They were friends - a tight knit bunch. They said Mike went to high school with them - did that mean Tina did too? Was I going to fit in with them? I hope so - I bet they want someone that will be able to fill in their old roommate's role. I don't know if I can do that.

After a few minutes of just lying there, I sat up. I dug my phone out from my pocket and flicked it open.

* * *

><p>"Do you think it's weird we left a stranger to be alone in Tina's room?" Rachel asked, grabbing a handful of Sun Chips.<p>

"I think I'd need to gather my thoughts if I were her," Quinn said. "I mean, we kind of jumped the gun, a bit, offering her the room, don't you think?"

"I don't, she's funny," Santana said. "And she works with Mike. In fact, if you're that concerned, let's call him right now."

"Alright." Quinn reached for her cell phone and dialed Mike's number. She immediately switched to speaker phone and it rang twice before Mike answered.

_"Hello?"_

"Hi Mike!" the three said in unison.

_"Woah, hey ladies! Looking for Tina?"_

"No, we're calling to talk to you," Rachel said.

"Yeah, to ask you about your co-worker, Brittany," Santana said.

_"Oh?"_ He sounded confused. _"Sorry, girls, I don't follow. How do you know Brittany?"_

"She's going to be our new roommate," Santana said.

"Potential roommate," Quinn corrected. "That's why we called - she seems nice enough, but I don't know... can we trust her?"

"Is she fun?" Santana asked. "Please tell me she's not a stick in the mud and will get pissed if I come home plastered."

_"Uhm, I've only been working here for like... a week and a half, guys. But from the few times I've met her, she's pretty great. Everyone here loves her - students, our boss, even some of the parents. And I don't think she'll be a stick in the mud, Santana. She invited me to get drinks my first day, but I had a date with Tina."_

"See? She has Mike's stamp of approval," Santana said.

_"Oh, hang on- Another call. Huh, speak of the devil."_

"Who?" Quinn laughed. "Brittany?"

_"Yeah, I'll call you guys back."_ And then he was gone. Rachel and Quinn exchanged looks as Santana snickered and scrambled out of the kitchen to head towards the stairs.

* * *

><p><em>"Hello?"<em> Mike's voice answered. He sounded like he was or had just been laughing.

"Hi, Mike! It's Brittany Pierce, from work?"

_"I know, I have you in my phone. What's up?"_

"This might sound kind of weird, but... I'm uhm... I'm looking to rent a room with some of your uhm... students? Friends?" I smacked my hand to my forehead. I sounded really dumb on the phone. "The thing is, I don't know if I should. The price they're asking for is great, and the room is bigger than the one I have, and everything is just like... way too perfect."

_"So many pros, you're scared there aren't any cons?"_

"Uhm, no, maybe. I don't know. I think they have expectations of me to be like... their new best friend. No, maybe not quite that, but... I'm just not sure. I don't know if I'm the kind of person they'd be friends with."

_"Brittany, you're over thinking it. For all four of you, it'll be a transition, not just you or them. They know they're losing Tina, and they know they can't expect you to replace her. And for the record, the fact that Santana is the one pulling for you most means you did something right."_

"What?" I stared blankly at the wall in front of me. "How do you know that?"

_"Seems like all of you are kind of nervous - they just called me to do a background check on you."_

"Really?" I laughed. I was a bit relieved - it was strange that they had just decided it was okay that I move in. I wondered what he meant about Santana pulling for me. "What did you tell them?"

_"That you're an axe murderer and expert stalker."_ He laughed when I gasped jokingly. _"I'm kidding. I told them the truth - that you're really great to work with and that everyone here loves you."_

"You really think that? We don't even work any shifts close together!" I giggled. "How could you know me well enough to vouch for me?"

_"I don't, but I have great hunches. Anyway, don't worry about it too much. Take some time to think about it, if you're that worried, but honestly Brittany, I think you'll really like them. We were all in Glee club together - they might not look it because they're so close now, but we were a real rag tag bunch. Strange as they come. They won't hate you."_

"Thanks, Mike."

_"No problem. All good?"_

"Yeah. I shouldn't keep them waiting. I'll call you later?"

_"You're still at their apartment? Haha, yeah, I'll talk to you soon. Bye, Brittany."_

"Bye," I said and clasped the phone closed. I stood up and quickly ran to the open door, but skidded to a halt when I nearly bumped into the three girls that were pressed up against the wall of the hallway.

"Oop!" I managed to stifle the shriek. The four of us stood wide-eyed at one another for a moment.

"Well, don't we look like a bunch of idiots," Santana said, shoving Rachel off her as she stood from her crouched position. "And I'll be the first to say you're not replacing Tina."

I gulped. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes were sharp as knives. Even with Mike's reassurance that Santana liked me, she kept confusing me with that piercing gaze. She crossed her arms and let out a little 'huff' and then smirked.

"No one will be replacing Tina - you don't replace friends you still have. You make new ones," she said, her brow raising slightly, and her smirk softened. "Now come on, will you? Let's go over the contract, and then you can take it home with you and make the decision later if you're still worried."

Quinn and Rachel both gave me reassuring smiles as they turned to head back downstairs after Santana. I stood still for a second longer, my heart still pounding in my chest like I'd run a marathon. Why was I so nervous? It wasn't from bumping into them. It was the way Santana had looked at me. Like she wasn't sure what to do with me. To be honest, I wasn't so sure myself. But then she would say the nicest things. I didn't have to be their new Tina. They wanted to take me in for who I was. It was like they had gone to the pound, and instead of a dog, they got me.

"I want to live here," I said from the top of the stairs. The three of them looked up. "If you'll have me, I mean."

"We've already said we did, loser," Santana said. "Now get down here before Rachel starts singing with joy and forces us to join in."

"I thought you guys liked doing that," I said as I jumped down step by step. I couldn't help it, I was excited. Santana waited for me at the bottom, and I could tell by the way her shoulders shook, she was trying to hold back a laugh.

"Oh, I don't mind singing. I do, however, mind her music selection," Santana said.

"I'll sing Poor Unfortunate Souls with you, if it helps," I said when I got to the bottom step and was level with her. She couldn't hold back the laugh any longer.

"Yeah, we can do that," she grinned and then pressed her palm against my back. Her other hand matched it and she pushed me forward. We could hear Rachel start singing something from the kitchen.

"Time... is never time at all, you can never ever leave... without leaving a piece of youth-"

"Oh god, there she goes," Santana laughed.

"And our lives are forever changed," Quinn joined in, holding up a spatula as a microphone. "We will never be the same. The more you change the less you feel."

"Believe... believe in me," Rachel sang back.

"Believe," Santana managed to giggle out. "Believe that life can change, that you're not stuck in vain."

"We're not the same, we're dif-fah-reeeeent... toniiiiight!" They started singing in unison, and I must have looked so stunned. They all had amazing voices.

"Toniiight," Quinn sang softly. Rachel pressed her back up against Quinn's and joined in, "Tooniiight, so bright!"

"Toniiiiiiiight," Santana jumped in, gesturing for me to join in. "Tonight."

I paused, looking between the girls as they laughed and giggled. This must be what they meant in the ad about impromptu performances. But how could it be unrehearsed? They all sounded amazing. No, amazing was an understatement. I didn't think it was possible for people not on the radio to sound this good. I was hesitant to join in, but their merriment was infectious.

"And you know you're never sure..." I sang quietly, swaying back and forth. I tucked my chin down as I looked at them shyly. "But you're sure you could be right-"

Santana grabbed my hands and pulled me around to spin in a circle. I think anyone else would have been unprepared, but for me, dancing was easy. I laughed as she twirled me and joined me in the next line. "-if you held yourself up to the light."

"And the embers never fade," she sang.

"In your city by the lake," I managed to sing without laughing to much. "The place where you were born."

"Belieeeeeeve," we all shouted. "Believe in me! Belieeeeeeeeeve! Believe!"

_**Author's Note: I honestly didn't expect to add any singing or songs to this, just because I am horrible at coming up with music that is appropriate. But it just kind of wrote itself into the story. We'll see if it happens again. Tonight Tonight - Smashing Pumpkins. This was the first time I ever heard this song, so uhm, I'm not sure if it's a good song or not.**_


	4. Whozits and Whatzits

"I can't believe you already signed a contract and everything," Jenna said, grabbing her shampoo and conditioner off the corner of the bathtub. I leaned against the door jam, my eyes following her as she rushed out of the bathroom and towards her room.

"Why? What if I wait around for something better and nothing comes up?" I pulled away from the door and followed her, lazily swinging my arms as I walked and then slumping into her bed.

"Get off, you're laying on the stuff I need to pack," she said, shoving me lightly. I grinned and barely rolled over. She sighed, "just be careful that they don't trick you into anything for the benefit of low rent."

"They're super nice, Jenna," I barely said with my cheek smushed against her mattress. "You can see so for yourself - Santana and Quinn are coming over in a little bit to help me pack."

"You invited them over?" Jenna sounded weird. I think she was trying to be supportive, but her own hurt and annoyance was stronger.

"Well, yeah, why not? It's better than asking you to - you're busy, first off, and second, it isn't like they have to go too much out of their way. They can just be home once we finish."

Jenna nodded as she grabbed some of her t-shirts off the bed and jammed them into her suitcase. Aside from the things on the bed, everything else in her room was taped up in boxes with various labels. I was supposed to help her move her things into the moving van before Santana and Quinn arrived. I didn't think it would take that long, but I think Jenna was purposely moving as slowly as possible. I don't know why she was being so cranky about me moving - she was moving too.

* * *

><p>"Hey, chica!" I heard Santana's voice as I struggled to place one of Jenna's boxes ontop of another one. I glanced over and before I knew it, Santana was next to me, her hands tucked under the box to help lift. One of her hands pressed half on top of mine, and I don't know why, but I almost pulled my hand away.<p>

"This isn't all your stuff, is it?" she asked, pulling her hand back to lift her sunglasses to rest on the top of her head.

"No, this is Jenna's stuff - my roommate," I said. "She's moving to L.A."

"Ah, so that's why you needed a place," Quinn said. I just noticed her. She was standing outside of the moving van, her palms placed against the floor boards as she looked up at Santana and I.

"Yeah. Her flight is in a few hours, so I thought we'd be done by now," I said looking back up at our apartment. I was glad we only had a few more things to grab, but Jenna was really cutting things close.

"Well, we're here to help, so long as we finish before 8," Santana said, hopping off the edge of the van. "Gots work an' all."

"You don't have to help with Jenna's stuff." I shook my head. That wasn't fair - they were being more than kind just helping me.

"We're already here, might as well," Santana shrugged. "Which one is your apartment?"

"Second floor, 204," I said. "But really, you don't-"

Santana had already run off through the propped open doors, leaving Quinn and I in her dust.

"I'd just go along with her," Quinn said. I was amazed at how quiet her voice always seemed to be but also very stern. "Once she decides something, there's no convincing her otherwise."

"I just don't want you to think I'm using you guys," I shrugged. Then I quickened my pace. "We better hurry, I don't want Jenna to freak."

We hurried up the stairs and I perked up, listening closely for any sign that Jenna was upset by strangers running into our apartment. I was pleasantly surprised, however, when I walked into the apartment and found Santana sitting on the couch, Jenna next to her with a box in her lap.

"-really, it's no problem. I just told Britt, seriously, we're already here and all," Santana said, smiling at me as I walked in.

"Jenna, don't let her help," I pleaded. "I don't wanna be rude."

"It's not rude, they offered," Jenna said, her tone a lot nicer all of a sudden. She stood up, gripping her box tightly and stepped around Santana. Santana pulled her knees closer to her body and then shot up once Jenna was out of her way. She made a swipe at the table, grabbing my cell phone and then tossed it at me. My eyes widened as I caught it.

"You can pay us back with pizza," Santana grinned. "So c'mon, what's all hers?"

After about three more trips each, we managed to move the rest of Jenna's things, minus the couch. Jenna and I had intentionally left it till last because Jenna said she was too weak to be any use. Santana and I ended up having to make the difficult trip down. Quinn had tried to help, too, but she made things more complicated once we got to the tight corners of the stairwell. We'd just managed to push the couch into place in the van, and Santana flopped onto it. She stretched and sighed, looking a lot like Lord Tubbington before he falls asleep.

"One down, only all your crap to go," she smirked, looking up at me. I giggled and squeezed into the small space she wasn't taking up. She wiggled, trying to nudge me off the edge without kicking me with her shoes. I wriggled back, pushing her legs with my hands, and after a minute long silent struggle that wasn't so silent with our stifled laughs, I managed to steal half the couch.

"I win," I cheered, tilting to the side and leaning towards her. She pouted, trying to kick me again, but I grabbed both her knees to still her. She opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it again and just stared at me. I stared back, the eerie feeling creeping up my neck that we were battling with our gaze again. She shifted and sat up, swinging her legs out from underneath my grasp.

"So where is that pizza? Didn't you call like, an hour ago?"

"Dunno," I shrugged. I didn't know when I called, exactly. I kept looking at her. She looked a little uncomfortable. Did I do something wrong?

"Let's go back upstairs then. You can call and see what's up, and we seriously need to get started with your stuff. It's getting late."

Once we got upstairs, we were greeted by the smell of pizza. Apparently while we were struggling with the couch, Quinn and Jenna had paid for and already eaten half of it. Santana made sure to yell at them about it, but was quickly quieted when Quinn slid her a slice.

"So Jenna tells me you sing in the shower," Quinn said, leaning over a paper plate.

"I don't!" I squeaked, struggling with the melted cheese of my pizza. It dripped from my lower lip and refused to tear away from mass of grease in my hands.

"We've already heard ya sing," Santana said before taking a rather large bite of her own pizza. She was a lot more graceful about eating it. I was jealous of how easy she made it look when it was so obviously not.

"Then you know I suck at it," I said, eyes wide. I managed to slurp up the cheese, and I quickly grabbed a napkin to wipe my chin. She laughed, and I wasn't sure if she was laughing at what I said or what I did.

"No way, this girl can sing," Jenna said, pointing at me and laughing. "She's like the next Britney Spears!"

"That's not funny... no I'm not," I shook my head dismissively. I hated that - everyone always said that because of my name. I was never going to be as good a dancer as her, and definitely not as good a singer.

"Oh," Quinn gasped, covering her mouth with her hand to avoid spitting. "I get it. That's... oh I totally see it."

"Yeah, right?" Jenna laughed. "She's in such denial."

"Oh, leave Brittany alone," Santana said, giving me a soft, reassuring look. I was surprised she hadn't joined in with the taunting. It made me feel a bit better.

"You guys are way better," I said, shaking my head. "I mean, if anyone was going to be pop stars, it's you guys and Rachel. Well, maybe not Rachel. She would be more like Celine Dion."

"Rachel's dreams are more broadway oriented," Quinn agreed. "But Santana here..." She winked.

"Shut up, no," Santana shook her head. "Whatever, anyway, you sound great, Britt. You shouldn't be embarrassed."

"You should rap for them," Jenna said. "She's hilarious."

"Oh?" That seemed to amuse Santana. "We'll have to warm you out of your shell. New goal, haha. Hear Pierce rap."

"Mm, pretend to leave and make her think she's home alone. Then you'll get her," Jenna said. She suddenly sat up, licking her lips and wiping her hands on her pants. "Well, I have to go. Gotta catch my flight and all. It was nice meeting you girls. Take care of her, okay?" She placed her hand on my shoulder and I tilted my head onto it.

"I'ma miss you," I said, turning around fully to give her a tight hug. She hugged me back until I turned it into a bear hug and lifted her up.

"Ge'off Brittany! Lemme go, I have to leave," she laughed. When I finally released her, she gave my hand a light squeeze and headed towards the door.

"Love ya, girly," she waved, and then she was gone. The three of us sat for a minute, all staring at the door. Well, at least, I thought so. Quinn and I were, but when I turned away, I noticed Santana was looking at me.

"We should seriously get to your stuff, Britt, I've got work in like two hours," she said, grabbing the empty paper plates from in front of us and tossing them in a plastic bag we had designated as the trash bin for the time being.

We packed as much as my stuff as we could in an hour and a half and spent the last half hour throwing stuff in Quinn's car. Santana took a few boxes in hers, but only what could fit in trunk so no one would try to break into her car while she was at work. Quinn asked me some general questions while we were in the car. How long I've been working at the dance studio and how old I was and stuff. We were almost finished bringing my things up when I gathered the courage to ask some things I was curious about.

"How come you and Rachel seem to... to answer to Santana?" I asked. I wasn't sure how else to phrase that. Quinn dropped my duffle bag on the chair in front of the desk and lifted her hand to flick her hair out of her eyes.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, you waited for her to finish interviewing me before you two voiced your opinions, and I dunno... it seems like everyone is always trying to get on her good side."

"Oh, well," Quinn seemed hesitant. She leaned against the desk and crossed her arms over her chest. "We all love Santana, but she's a bit... scary if you get on her bad side. She's not above violence, that's for sure."

"But she's so..." I pressed my fingertips together. She wasn't that short, Rachel was shorter, but she didn't look like she could take anyone out. Then again, she had a gaze that looked like it could kill someone.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much," Quinn said. "She hasn't really started anything with anyone in a while. But I'm being completely honest when I say I think she's taken a liking to you. She's my _best friend_ and she's never been as nice to me as she is to you."

"Really?" I asked. That was weird. Really weird. I mean, it made me feel kind of warm and fuzzy to know that she liked me. I was always so worried people were going to misinterpret things I said and did.

"Stop worrying so much, Brittany," Quinn said. "It's late, I should take you home."

"Okay, but let me say good bye to Lord Tubbington first," I said, and raced out of my new room to track him down. Rachel and Quinn had insisted I bring him over as soon as possible. Santana had allowed it after I explained that with all the moving, he'd get really confused at my apartment if there was no furniture. I found him sprawled out on a chair in the dining room. It was good that he had taken a liking to the apartment - I was worried he would be restless.

"Bye, Lord Tubbington," I said, scooping my large friend into my arms and rubbing my nose in his belly. He liked it when I did that. Or at least, he didn't mind. Lord Tubbington doesn't mind a whole lot of things.

* * *

><p>"Can you please tell me why your cat is like fifty pounds over weight?" Santana was sitting on my bed, packing my pillows and my stuffed animals into a trash bag. Today, Quinn had morning classes, but Santana had offered to help me with the rest of my packing. According to Santana, my cat had climbed on to the kitchen countertop and eaten her breakfast this morning. I wasn't sure if I could believe that - it did sound like something Lord Tubbington would do, but I couldn't imagine him being able to jump up onto the counter like that.<p>

"He likes to eat," I shrugged.

"Obviously," she rolled her eyes. She grabbed the last plush from my bed and paused. "What on earth is this?"

"It's... a pillow pet. His name is Jeremy," I said, reaching for the purple unicorn in her hands. She pulled it out of my reach, and my arm went flailing and I fell forward with an 'oomf!' onto my bed. Half my arm stretched over her lap, and I wriggled upright to try and grab him.

"You're like five," she giggled, holding it over her head. "What's with all the cutesy adorable stuff you have?"

She tossed Jeremy across the bed and stretched over to the bedpost, not bothering to push me off her, and grabbed my fuzzy bear hat. She plopped it on my head and tugged at the sides until it was on properly. Or at least, mostly. I looked up at her from beneath the lopsided hat and pressed my palm against to top of my head to adjust it.

"I like my clothes and my stuffed animals," I said proudly. "I wasn't allowed to wear stuff like this - my high school was a private boarding school."

"Oh, that's miserable," Santana grimaced. "At least my cheerios uniform was hot."

"Cheerios?" I asked, sitting upright, dragging my hands back to my own knees as I did so.

"I was a cheerleader in High School," she shrugged. "Coach insisted we always wore our uniforms and kept our hair tied back. But none of us minded - it made us stand out as the top bitches of the school."

Santana smirked proudly when she said 'top bitches' and did a cute little wave with her hand to emphasize her point. She waited for me to react, but I just stared at her, wondering what her cheerleader uniform looked like. My school didn't have a football team, since it was an all girls school, so subsequently there was no cheerleading squad.

Santana's expression softened from proud to something I couldn't quite figure out. She looked maybe a little sad.

"I totally get the need to express yourself though," she said, picking Jeremy back up and bouncing him in her lap. "After I graduated, I was a little unsure about who I was without the cheerios uniform anymore."

"Why's that?" I didn't really understand. Maybe it was because at my school, the uniform didn't define you, it made people look past appearances and really see you for who you were, not your clothes. Or at least, after they took the time to get to know you.

"Being a cheerio was like being a bee," Santana said. "Well, Quinn and I were lucky enough to snag the head cheerleader position at some point."

"Quinn was a cheerleader too?" I smiled. Quinn didn't look like a cheerleader either. "So you got to be queen bee? Literally! Haha."

"Yeah, but none of that mattered afterwards," she smiled sadly and placed Jeremy in the bag with the other stuffed animals. "I'm just glad that by some twist of fate, I'd joined Glee club."

"What is a 'glee club'?" They kept mentioning this, and I'd heard people talk about Glee clubs before. The way I heard others talked about it, I couldn't help but think of it like Chess club or Cricket. But then, wouldn't it be called that?

"Well...glee is a singing club, basically," Santana explained. "Showtunes, mostly, but we kind of rocked way more than that. We managed to get to nationals two years in a row, and even won my senior year."

"That's.. so cool! That explains why the three of you are such good singers," I smiled.

"Yeah, without glee, I probably would have just stayed in Lima forever... ugh, no thank you," she grimaced.

"Lima, Ohio?"

"You know it?" she looked surprised.

"I used to live there!" I exclaimed. "In middle school, before my parents moved to Cincinnati!"

"Wow... that's... that's so weird," Santana said, shaking her head lightly. "Why'd you move?"

"Well... my mom said my dad got a better job, but I'm pretty sure it was because of me," I shrugged lightly. I looked down at the floor. "I'm really bad at school and stuff, or was. But my mom was convinced it was the environment I was in. I got picked on a lot because I always said the wrong answers in class. But... it's cause I'm better at more hands on stuff. Or like, visualizations or something. I don't do well with things like math and english or history, since it's all just memorizing facts and dates."

I felt really dumb admitting all of this to Santana. I don't know why. She just seemed so smart and pretty and was really confident in herself, even if she had just admitted otherwise to me. I slid off the bed and started shuffling through the pile of my clothes on the floor.

"The new school I went to was a private magnet school. Really hands on with the instructors. We never had a class with more than fifteen people in it," I said as I started folding a long sleeved shirt. Santana quietly found her way next to me and grabbed a pair of my jeans.

"You know, Albert Einstein once said, 'Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish on his ability to climb a tree, it will spend the rest of its life thinking its an idiot.'" She nudged up against me with her shoulder and smiled. "You're not. Stupid, I mean. Don't ever think that you are."

I felt my chest swell up and for a second I couldn't breath. That made so much sense. And Santana was so nice. And smart. I didn't know why she was so nice to me, but I was really glad she was. She could have made fun of me - I'd seen her tease Quinn and Rachel, even if it was playful. I don't think I would have minded if she teased me, either. But her thinking I was dumb really worried me, and here she was telling me I was fine just the way I was.

"I won't," I promised.

"Good," she laughed. "God, you have so many clothes."

"Look at this stuff," I shook my head. A looked over at her with a sly grin. "Isn't it neat?"

She tilted her head at me, the smile on her face faltering slightly as she tried to figure out what I was talking about.

"Wouldn't you think... my collections complete?" I sang the last bit.

"Oh god, you're as bad as Rachel!" she tilted her head back as she let out a loud laugh and clasped her hands together. I took the opportunity to stand up, boldly grasping another shirt in my hand.

"Wouldn't you think I'm the girl... the girl who has... everything?" I said, and held the shirt out to her. She nodded and took it from me, grabbing my hand and pulled herself up.

"Look at this trove," she sang, gesturing with a flick of her hand at the remaining pile. "Treasures untold. How many wonders can one cavern hold?" She raised both her hands and shrugged as she made a light twirl to look around at the rest of my room. I grinned brightly.

"Looking around here, you'd think," she continued, taking hard steps as she walked to my bookshelf. She grabbed my iPod and swayed it in the air. "Sure, she's got everything."

"I've got gadgest and gizmos a-plenty," I sang loudly, grabbing any little thing I could as I dashed in a half circle around the room. My hairbrush, my frog alarm clock, and one of my ballet shoes. "I've got whozits and whatzits galore!" I held the items up and then dropped them at Santana's feet. "You want thingamabobs?" I twirled my hair. "I've got twenty," I gestured by holding two fingers up in one hand and making an 'o' shape with the other. "But who cares! No big deal...! I want moooore...!"

I grabbed her wrists and pulled her with me as I made another circle around the room. She was laughing so hard, I wasn't sure we could keep singing. I started giggling myself, and then I was positive of it. We kept dancing around - well, more of me tugging on her and directing her where to go - until we were too tired. Santana made a few attempts at singing the rest of the song, but in the end we just ended up plopped on my bed, too out of breath to do anything else.

"...you do... know other movies... other than the Little Mermaid... right?" she gasped. She couldn't even lift herself upright to look at me. She just twisted her neck and stared at me.

"I do! I... promise!" I giggled.

"Good... you had me scared, there... for a second," she exhaled, placing her hand on her chest as she tried to regain her breath. "Cause as much as those songs are _awesome_, I was begining to think the only reason you replied to the add was because of _Poor Unfortunate Souls_."

"It is," I said, all too seriously. She looked a bit taken back. "You think I wanted to room with you because you're super nice?"

"Well damn, Pierce," she sat up. "Fine, I don't like you either."

"I absolutely _hate_ you," I grinned. "But ya sound great." I winked and held up my hands, pointing at her with my index finger and 'clicked' my thumbs at her as I made the same sound with my mouth.

"You're such a dork," she said with an almost pained expression, except she was still smiling. I don't think she could handle laughing any more though. She held her side and leaned into me. "Stop, please."

"Okay, I take it back," I said, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. "I don't hate you."

"Oh good," she giggled into my side. "I was about to die of grief."

I was positive no matter what she said or did, I couldn't hate this girl. Seeing her curled up, almost having a panic attack from laughing so hard at something I said? It made me feel so good. I just wanted to keep making her smile like that.

_**Author's note: I originally skipped this entire interaction and went on to write the next chapter already because I really didn't want to write in the move out scenes (I didn't want to waste any more time with Jenna's character). But then I wrote the next chapter and felt like nothing made sense. You don't get any insight to Brittany, and that made me sad. So hopefully this shows a bit more about her. I'll update the next chapter tomorrow after editing it a bit slightly, cause I didn't intend to write this one. :) Thank you for all of the reviews. It really helps motivate me to keep writing. **_


	5. The Mattress

Today was absolutely exhausting. Wednesdays for me usually are. I have a dance composition class in the morning and after lunch I have Kinesiology. I've never been very good at memorizing things that weren't dances, so that class is difficult. I always mix up terms. At least the class applies pretty fluidly with the dancing I do, otherwise I might not ever understand what we talk about. Anyway, after my classes, I had to go to the dance studio to teach my introductory hip hop class. Normally, I'd be okay, since I don't have class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but I spent all of yesterday packing my things with Santana. I was glad I only had a few things left - Santana had gotten Mike to agree to stop by around six to help me get my bed frame and my mattress.

I stumbled from the elevator and shuffled towards my door. My head felt so heavy I had to rest it against the door as I jabbed my key at the lock. I missed like three times before it found the recess that was the keyhole, but it wouldn't go all the way in. Puzzled, I looked down and flipped the key around and tried again. It still wouldn't go in.

I peeled my forehead off the door and felt something stick. I looked up just in time for the paper to fall away from my face and caught it in my hands.

_**Eviction Notice**_

_We regret to inform you that your contract has been violated for the following reason:_

_- Failure to pay this months rent, second infraction_

_Your belongings have been removed and placed outside. The core to the lock of this apartment has been changed, but maintenance requests you deposit your key in the facilities mailbox located in the lobby. Failure to comply will result in an additional fine._

There was more, but it was legal terminology I wasn't familiar with. I stood there for a while as I tried to remember how much I had left in my room. There was my bed and my mattress, my spare blanket, a pillow, a lamp, and Lord Tubbington's scratching post, but other than that, I had moved everything else yesterday. My brow furrowed - I hadn't seen anything when I came in, but I hadn't been looking either.

When I got outside, I found the remains Lord Tubbington's scratching post and the drawer to the under portion of my bed frame. I got so frustrated I kicked the drawer, but regretted it because I stubbed my toe. What was I supposed to do? I didn't have enough money for a new bed! I had dipped into my savings to pay the housing deposit - thank god for the new apartment, though. What if this had happened yesterday before Jenna left? Why hadn't she told me we missed rent before? When did that happen?

I sat down on the curb, tucking my knees to my chest. I had to keep calm. Nothing good ever came out of panicking. So I didn't have a bed, or even a mattress. Worse things could happen. I had managed to get rent a new place, with near perfect timing, all things considered. I'd just have to make due for the night. I rummaged my jacket pocket for my phone and sent Mike a text telling him not to stop by. I added that I had gotten other arrangements so he didn't have to worry. I didn't want to start off my new living arrangement by putting stress on my roommates or my new coworker.

* * *

><p>"Hello?" I called out as I stepped into the apartment. I wasn't surprised when no one answered. Santana told me that everyone worked in the evenings. It was better for me, anyway. I wouldn't have to explain why Mike wasn't here helping me move in my mattress.<p>

I found Lord Tubbington sleeping on the couch. After what he did to Santana's breakfast yesterday, I wanted to scold him. I knelt down and prodded him with my finger. He lazily opened an eye to acknowledge my presence. I stared at him angrily for a moment.

"You need to stop bothering Santana," I said, and scooped him into my arms. Maybe everyone was right - Lord Tubbington was getting really heavy. "If you do that again, I'm putting you on a diet." I had to waddle in order to carry him up the stairs to my room.

The room was still a mess. As tired as I was, I decided that if I finished unpacking, at least I wouldn't feel so terrible about not having anything to sleep on. I pushed a few boxes out of the way of where my bed was supposed to be and threw my comforter on the ground, folded it in half, and laid my pillow on top. Lord Tubbington immediately recognized this as my sleeping space and took it over. I gave him a gently pat on the head and smiled.

After several hours, I had managed to put away all my clothes. There was one box still full of school supplies on the desk, but I decided it was fine to leave that until tomorrow. I grabbed my stuffed unicorn pillow pet, Jeremy, and tossed him at Lord Tubbington. Santana had laughed again when I brought him inside, but Rachel had told me it was okay and that she had plenty of stuffed animals. That didn't make Santana stop laughing, though. But I think it was because she was reminded of when we started singing yesterday.

Glancing at my phone, I think my whole body grimaced. It was past three in the morning. I wasn't sure if I'd missed anyone coming home or not. I was pretty sure I was still here alone. I hadn't heard a thing. But it made me wonder what sort of jobs they had or what kept them up so late. I stood up and walked out of my room to investigate.

There was a pink sticky note on my door. It hadn't been there when I came in, I would have noticed, because it had a golden star sticker on it.

_"Didn't want to interrupt your unpacking. Really tired. Going to bed. Q's staying at a friends tonight. Don't let S in your room if she's drunk when she gets home. - R"_

I pressed my lips together to stifle a laugh. Rachel was really nice. I wish she would have interrupted my packing, I would have enjoyed the company. But I was glad she didn't, because then I would have to explain what happened to my mattress. Maybe I could sleep in Quinn's bed. No, I don't think we were good enough friends yet for that. Besides, I hadn't been formally presented their rooms yet, and I didn't want Quinn to come home catching me in her room without her permission.

There was a loud bang downstairs from the front door slamming shut. Alert from the noise, I stepped towards the stairs in time to hear Santana.

"Shiiiit," she hissed, and now I could see her waving at the door. She must not have meant to slam it. She was wearing a tight dress and a fluffy white vest - she looked like she had just come from clubbing or a bar, because she teetered a bit as she made her way to the kitchen. A smile reappeared on my lips, remembering the note I still had in my hand.

"Santana?" I said just above a whisper as I descended the stairs. She snapped upright and stared at me, a hand pressed to her chest.

"Brittany- god, I thought you were a burglar or something," she said, her voice a pitch higher than normal.

"Sorry." I walked over to the kitchen. "Were you out drinking?"

"Working," Santana shook her head, but then nodded as she smiled. "And drinking, yeah."

"You work at a bar?" I asked, sliding into the barstool chair at the kitchen island.

"Yeah, ha," she said, pushing away from the counter top. She staggered to the cabinet and grabbed a glass. She held a second one up and nodded her head at me. I bobbed my head twice and she started filling the glasses with water. "It's called _Lucky Charms_." She snorted. "It's irish or something." That much was obvious, even to me.

"And you're allowed to drink on the clock?" She handed me a glass.

"No, but I wasn't on the clock the last few hours," she giggled, nearly missing her mouth with her glass as she took a gulp. She held her hand up to her face. "Mm, I should have asked you to come out."

"I don't have your number yet," I confessed and then sipped from my glass.

"Whaaaaat," she exclaimed, a little too loudly. Her eyes widened and her whole body seemed to stiffen as she glanced up at the ceiling. We both did. After silence confirmed that she hadn't woken Rachel up, she relaxed a bit.

"Rachel said Quinn is staying at a friends," I said, in case Santana didn't know.

"Yeah, Mercedes texted me," Santana nodded. "You'd like Mercedes."

"Yeah? Why?"

"I don't know," Santana blinked. She seemed puzzled, but it was kind of adorable. "Everyone likes Mercedes."

"I prefer Cadillacs," I said nonchalantly. Santana burst into laughter, waving her hand at me and almost knocking over her glass in the process. I caught it and then reached over to help her stabilize herself. "You're drunk."

"I don't deny that," she giggled. Her eyes met mine and her laughter slowly subsided. I couldn't help but get the feeling we were having a staring contest. I blinked, not able to keep the contact after I got the thought in my head, and she averted her gaze.

"You seem pretty responsive for being drunk," I said.

"Clearly I have not drank enough," she agreed, but she could barely keep herself upright. I could tell, because she kept pressing more of her weight into my arms.

"Do you need help getting upstairs?" I asked.

"I want to finish my water," she mumbled.

"Okay. We can take it up, though," I said.

"Okay."

It was a bit harder than I thought it would be to get Santana upstairs. She refused to let me hold her glass, which I was sure would have made me holding her more difficult, but by the time we got to the top of the stairs, it was pointless all together for her to have brought it. She spilled most of it on herself and some on me too. I didn't mind, since it was just water.

I helped her to her room, which was surprisingly well decorated. There was a bookshelf full of books and magazines. One shelf had a bunch of trophies in it. There was one of those round chairs that looks like a giant bowl in one corner of the room with a couple of pillows resting on top. She had a pin board covered in photos above her bed. The bed itself was a full sized one with a fluffy black comforter spread across it. I helped her over to it and asked if she was okay to dress herself. She nodded, so I told her I would get her a new glass of water while she changed. She shyly let me take the glass from her.

I took my time getting the water, since I was sure a drunk Santana wouldn't be entirely speedy. I spent a moment looking for something she could maybe eat, but I wasn't sure what the rules on food were. After dawdling a moment more and checking to make sure the front door was locked, I went back upstairs and found Santana passed out in a t-shirt and her underwear. I think if she had been sober, she might have been embarrassed for me seeing her like that. I really don't mind, but I see how other people do.

"Poor thing," I cooed, setting the glass on her nightstand and gently tugged the comforter from underneath her. She woke for a moment, mumbling under her breath - maybe it was spanish, I couldn't tell - before rolling to let me cover her up.

"Thanks, Britt-britt," she murmured. I smiled and before I could think twice about it, brushed my hand over her forehead to push her hair out of her face. She hummed happily and snuggled her face into her pillow.

* * *

><p>I was having so much trouble sleeping. My makeshift attempt at a bed, otherwise known as my comforter as a mat and a thin sheet as my blanket, was uncomfortable and I was freezing. Lord Tubbington had been my only source of warmth until he decided my constant shifting wasn't worth the aggravation and had run off out my open bedroom door.<p>

Out in the hallway, I heard the bathroom door shut. I rolled over to look out my door and I could see the light from the crack beneath the door. Then the toilet flushed. A few seconds later, Santana emerged at the same time that Lord Tubbington had decided to scurry down the hall. My eyes widened as she stumbled over him and I heard a loud hiss. To my surprise, she hissed back.

"Get out of here you stupid, fat cat," she growled after imitating him, raising her arms and extending her fingers like claws. She took a few staggered steps forward and stopped in front of my door.

"Britt?" she said softly, pressing her hand against the door jam to prop herself up. She poked her head inside and I shut my eyes tightly. I didn't think she knew I was awake, but after a few seconds, she spoke again. "Oh, Britt, why are you sleeping on the floor?"

My eyes instantly popped open against my will. She crept forward, pushing open the door fully and entered.

"Britt?" she asked again, even though we both knew she could see that I was awake. I slowly shifted upright.

"Apparently I was evicted from my old apartment today," I said in a hushed whisper. "I didn't know they could just take your stuff out of your apartment without your permission, but they did."

"Oh, sweetie," she said softly and knelt down next to me. "Why didn't you say anything?"

I wasn't sure if she had sobered up yet. She was speaking pretty clearly and quieter - I think she was more aware of the time now, but the way she swayed slightly convinced me she was still a little drunk.

"I didn't want anyone to worry... or think that I got evicted because I don't pay rent," I murmured. "I pay rent, I don't know what happened. I think Jenna forgot to pay or something before she moved out."

"That's not really important right now," Santana said. She reached over and tugged at the sheet I was using as a blanket. "Britt, that can't be comfortable... or warm. Do you wanna crash in my room?"

"On your round chair?" I asked hopefully. It looked really cozy.

"No, in my bed, silly," she laughed. "I mean, if you want, you can sleep in my circle chair. But I think that wouldn't be as comfortable. C'mon, grab your blanket. You look like you're freezing."

After I wrapped up like a cocoon, I waddled after Santana to her room. She pulled away her second pillow so I could toss mine in its place. I plopped into her bed and felt immediately better. It was like a fluffy cloud - I was almost scared it was going to swallow me up. Santana stumbled, cursed, and then slid into the bed next to me and rolled on to her side.

"Do you have enough room?" she asked. I twisted to look at her and nodded.

"Thanks," I smiled. She smiled back, but not so much with her mouth. Her eyes seemed to smile.

"Good," she sighed. "I would feel really bad if you spent the night on the floor your first night in the apartment."

"I would have been okay."

"Oh well. This is better, right?" She looked at me earnestly.

"Yeah, definitely."

We just laid there for a while. I was laying on my back, and even though I wasn't looking at her, I could tell she was still awake.

"Can I ask you something?" I spoke so suddenly, I surprised myself.

"Sure?" She didn't sound surprised at all, as though this were the most casual situation ever. I guess I should have felt more weird, too, but I didn't.

"Why did it seem like everyone wanted to make sure you were okay with me before they agreed to let me room here? I mean, even Mike was surprised you were on board." I had asked Quinn before, but I really wanted to know Santana's side of the story. People weren't just intimidating for no reason.

"Oh, that," Santana said. She shifted a bit and I looked back over to see she had propped her head up with her arm. "I don't like anyone. Ever."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know? Cause I'm a _bitch_?" she responded a little hastily, her brow creased just enough to make it look like she was scowling. But it was gone as quickly as it had come. "I just have to warm up to people first, I guess."

"But you don't mind me?" I said, unsure of myself. I didn't think I had done anything for any one of them to like me.

"I don't," she nodded.

"I'm glad," I said. "Can I ask you something else?"

"You don't have to ask if you can ask me something, Britt."

"Why did Rachel post a sticky note on my door saying not to let you in my room if you were drunk?"

"I-" she started, but didn't seem to know how to finish the statement. She rolled onto her back. I looked at her eyes and followed her gaze up to the spot she was looking at on the ceiling. Maybe if I didn't look at her she would figure out what she was going to say. She didn't have to tell me if she didn't want to.

"You don't have to-"

"I'm kind of an emotional drunk," she said. "I've even started crying at my ex-boyfriend once to make out with me."

"That must have been awkward," I said. I still didn't know why that meant she couldn't be in my room.

"Rachel has it in her head that I'll either end up an emotional wreck or... that I'll be too much of a horn dog to function." She glanced over at me and awkwardly looked away. I just smiled and continued to look at her. I don't know why she was so embarrassed.

"I think lots of people get like that when they're drunk," I giggled.

"I know! I can't help it if I wants to git my mack on," she smiled sheepishly. "Rachel's mad because I uhm... busted into her room once a few months ago with a guy."

I laughed. I didn't mean to be loud, but that was really funny. "Was she home?"

"Yeah," Santana giggled. "Guess she's still butt hurt over it."

"So, basically, she was scared you'd end up in my room making a fool or yourself?" It made a little more sense now.

"Probably. Tina always used to always keep me in check," Santana said softly. "She'd be patient with me when I was crying and firm enough to smack me if I did anything else."

"I wish I could meet Tina. You guys seem to really miss her."

"Yeah, well, you've got some big shoes to fill."

"Can you tell me how I'm fairing so far?" I twisted fully to my side to look at her.

"Well, you took pretty good care of me so far," Santana smiled as she rolled back onto her side to face me. She smiled shyly and she started to pick at the fold in her blanket. "Besides, I like you pretty well."

"I still have no idea why."

"You seem to say exactly what you're thinking," she shrugged. "And you're silly. You don't take things too seriously."

"You can't have come to that conclusion already."

"You'd have to be pretty awesome to respond to our drunk ass craigslist ad?"

"I am awesome," I said through a yawn. Santana was silent for a moment and then twisted onto her back again.

"Go to sleep," she mumbled.

"I will if you do," I yawned again.

"Then stop talking to me," she giggled.

"Fine," I whispered and snuggled into my pillow. I closed my eyes. Not even five minutes later, Santana spoke again.

"Thanks, Britt," she sighed. I opened an eye and saw that she was staring absently at the ceiling again, her hands tucked over her chest and above her covers making her look a little like a chipmunk. I don't think she meant for me to hear it, since a second later, she rolled onto her her side with her back facing me. I had the urge to inch closer to her, but I realized that would be weird just in time to tell my body to stop. I didn't know why she was thanking me - I was the one who should be grateful, but I was pretty sure both of us were too tired to talk much more.

"Night, Santana," I murmured.

**_Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews. :) I'm posting this earlier than I was planning to because it was ready and I have to go run some errands. I'll try to keep updating frequently, but I might not be able to post one on Monday because of procrastinating homework. But I should have one to post tomorrow. It's started a bit weird, so who knows. Anyway. Let me know if the conversation between Santana and Brittany panned out okay, because I'm not sure if it makes any sense. It does to me, but maybe I'm not expressing it right with words. Blahhh. Haha._**


	6. Canoodling

Santana groggily opened her eyes. Despite drinking water before she went to sleep, her head was pounding. She made an attempt to sit up, but something pinned her down. Her eyes widened and her body tensed. Slowly and carefully, she looked down and saw long pale arm laying over her covers and wrapped tightly around her waist. For a moment, she looked terrified, but then a small snore from behind her made her relax. She craned her neck and just managed to see Brittany curled with her face planted in her pillow and her body awkwardly contorted in a position that looked far from comfortable.

As carefully as she could, she pried Brittany's hand away from her waist and managed to remove the lower half of her body from the confines of the blanket. The moment she was out of the bed, Brittany started to move, tangling herself further into her covers but all the while still asleep. Santana momentarily forgot her headache and a smile crept its way over her lips.

"I don't understand how I'm the one that comes home plastered and you're the one that sleeps in," she shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. She glanced down and nearly jumped back in shock.

"-the fuck?" she squeaked at her lack of pants. She had to place her hand on her desk for support, her other palm raised to press against her forehead as she tried to remember the events of last night. She came home drunk. Brittany had helped her to bed. She spilt water, and Brittany offered to get her more water. She wasn't sure what happened after that - she was pretty sure she'd passed out. Then how did Brittany get into her bed and she end up pantsless?

Santana approached the bed again, placing one knee on the mattress as she stretched her arm over to Brittany's covers. She pulled them away as lightly as she could and just enough to reveal that Brittany was, at least, still entirely clothed. She sat back and sighed with relief. She suddenly remembered she had changed herself, too frustrated and drunk to get her legs through her pajama pants.

"What are you doing in my bed?" she whispered hoarsely. Brittany replied by rolling over, her arms spreading over into Santana's side of the bed as though she were wading through water. Her hand stroked the fabric and eventually collided with Santana's arm. The blonde peeled her face up from her pillow and peered around from beneath a mass of her hair that flicked every which way. She looked momentarily confused, but then found Santana's eyes. Her blue eyes flickered brightly, and her mouth curved into a lazy smile.

* * *

><p>"Hey," I croaked. Santana laughed. It was such a pretty laugh, like music.<p>

"You look like a monster," Santana said, leaning forward and brushing her hand against my forehead. I yawned and stretched my arms out in front of me, imitating how Lord Tubbington would when he woke from his eight hour power naps.

"You look surprisingly well slept for someone who drank so much," I said as I curled back into a seated position. I looked around at her bed and saw that my comforter was tangled up with hers in a big messy mass. "Sorry, did I move a lot in my sleep?"

"I don't know, I sleep like the dead," Santana said, stretching her arm up over her head and yawning. "Mind cluing me in to why you're in my bed?"

"Oh god," I said, straightening quickly. If she didn't remember offering me to sleep in her bed, then she must be really confused. And what if she wasn't actually okay with it, and was too drunk to know otherwise? "I'm sorry - you said last night, and with me not having a bed, I thought it was okay because, well, you offered and-"

"Woah, Britt, slow down," she said, raising her hand to her head. Her brow crinkled and I half expected her to start yelling at me. She didn't, though. She just inhaled slowly, lowered her hand, and then looked at me again. "Okay, I remember... Sorry, I didn't mean to make you panic."

"It's okay, then?"

"Of course, I just blanked out on the details," Santana said.

"Do you usually drink that much?" I spoke hesitantly. She leaned back against her desk, casually crossing her arms over her chest. She had barely pressed against the surface when she suddenly jumped forward. Her hands dropped back down and she tugged at her t-shirt in what I could only figure as an attempt to cover her underwear.

"Uhm, yeah, wait, no," she shook her head and skipped across the room to her dresser and quickly pulling out a pair of shorts. "I mean, well..." She looked a bit flushed. I knew it was because she was embarrassed about not having any pants on, but she also seemed embarrassed for drinking a lot.

"I don't think any less of you for drinking, Santana," I said, looking towards her desk out of courtesy. "It's not like I don't drink too."

"Oh. Yeah, uhm..." I could hear her fumbling around and after a second she came back into view, covered up. She leaned back against the desk, trying to act like she hadn't just put on shorts. "Still, you shouldn't have had to see me like that your first night in."

"Don't worry about it," I shrugged. "Sorry again for surprising you in your bed. That must have scared you."

"Ugh, we need to stop apologizing about this," Santana rolled her eyes as she pressed her hand to her forehead. Her hand slid further back and ruffled through her hair. "I feel like shit."

"You need to eat something," I said, hopping out of the bed and grabbing her by her wrist. I pulled her forward gently until she was in front of me and then pushed her from behind towards the door. "Let's make pancakes!"

"I don't know how to make pancakes, Britt," she protested by leaning back into my hands and digging her heels into the carpet. I pushed harder, forcing her to glide forward.

"But I really want pancakes," I pouted. "And they're the best cure for a hangover!"

"I guess... I can look up a recipe," she smiled.

"Ugh, recipes are confusing," I shook my head and pushed her again. She held her arms out and pressed her hands to the door jam to keep me from getting her out in the hallway.

"That's fine," she laughed, "I'll read the recipe and tell you what to do, how does that sound?"

"Mm, okay, but c'mon, let's go!" Suddenly she felt heavier against my arms. She had dropped all her weight on me and I had to catch her under her armpits to keep her from falling.

"Santana!" I gasped and she giggled. I tugged her back upright and pushed her to her feet. She twisted out of my grasp and stumbled back to her bed, grabbing her phone from the shelves on her headboard.

"Right, let's go." She jumped off the bed and grabbed my hand. This time it was her turn to pull me, but I didn't resist. When we got to the stairs, we hopped down, trying our best to keep in sync, but neither of us could because I kept laughing and then suddenly Santana looked a little dizzy. Her hand tightened in mine and she leaned on me temporarily for support.

"I'm okay," she nodded and we walked the rest of the way to the kitchen. It wasn't until her hand slipped out of mine that I realized I'd been holding it at all. I walked around the kitchen island and placed my hand on my hips as she started scrolling through her iPhone for a recipe.

"We need flour, baking powder, salt, sugar, milk, eggs, and butter," she said while leaning against the counter top from her seat in the swivel chair. She pointed towards the pantry and smiled. "This will help you find your way around the kitchen."

"Uhm," I looked through the shelves of the pantry for the first thing she said, flour, but paused to glance back at her. "Can we just use this pancake mix?"

"Definitely," she laughed. "Good, I didn't think we had baking powder, and I have no idea if that's important."

"Where are the instructions?" I asked, holding the package in my hand and turning it a couple times. Santana stretched out her hand and I took a step toward her to give it to her.

"Hmm," she hummed lightly. "How many do you want?"

"Eight," I said.

"What? Really?"

"No! Haha, but we should make a lot, you need to eat," I said.

"Mm, yeah, I am really hungry," she nodded. "Okay, measuring cups are in that drawer and a mixing bowl should be..." She hesitated after pointing to a drawer behind me. I quickly opened the drawer and found a measuring device and held it up for her, awaiting further instruction.

"And?" I looked at her expectantly. "Are you telling me you don't know your way around your own kitchen?"

"Of course I do, shut up," she grimaced. "That cabinet." She pointed again. I was prepared to make fun of her if she was wrong, but she wasn't. I grabbed a large mixing bowl and set it on the counter. She told me the amount of water and mix I had to measure and I carefully did as told. I was in the middle of stirring the mix when she got up and walked to the refrigerator.

"What do you like in pancakes?" she glanced back at me. "We have chocolate chips in the pantry, and we have... blueberries in the fridge."

"What do you like? They're your pancakes," I said.

"Blueberries," she said, almost shyly. It made me grin. "But we have other stuff, too. We can probably steal some of Berry's bananas."

"'Berry's bananas'," I repeated with a laugh. "No, we'd have to make a second batch. I'm fine with blueberries. Next time we can make banana pancakes though, cause those are my favorite. But I don't want to steal Rachel's food."

"Well, it's a little late for that," Santana said, raising an eyebrow at me as she glanced at the pancake mix.

"Shit, no!" I said, almost flinging the whisk I was using out of the bowl.

"Relax, first off, she never notices," Santana shrugged. "And second, it's not hers. I'm pretty sure there's like milk or something in pancake mix. And Quinn doesn't care when I use her stuff - I just have to replace anything I use."

"Don't scare me like that," I said, furrowing my brow and pouting as I continued mixing. She carried the blueberries over to the sink and started rinsing them. She was standing beside me, her back to me, and gently knocked her hip into mine. I glanced at her, trying to keep my scowl on my face, but she smiled and I just couldn't. I laughed and bumped her back.

"We can go shopping and stuff for food if you want," she said. "But I think we should figure out your bed situation first."

"Don't you have work or class today?"

"I don't work today," she shook her head. "And my class is starting..." She looked over at the clock, "'bout ten minutes ago."

"What? You need to go get ready! You can still make it to the rest of cl-"

Santana held her hand beneath her nose as she started to chuckle.

"Britt, it's fine. It's just a history class. I'll catch up. And you said pancakes cure hangovers, right?"

"Yeah..." I was hesitant, because I didn't want Santana to skip her class, but I really did want to make pancakes with her.

"Then no harm," she said and chucked a blueberry in her mouth. "I think that's mixed enough. Do you want me to make them, or can you do it?"

"I can! Sit down," I said and grabbed the container of blueberries out of her hand. "You should drink some water too. And take an aspirin if your head hurts."

"Oh?" she smiled, as though I had said something that was amusing. "Yeah, I will."

It didn't take long to finish making the pancakes. Santana sat patiently at the counter, and even though I messed up the first two, she didn't complain and ate them anyway. We had made enough batter to have more than enough between the two of us, but somehow the stack disappeared without a trace.

"Those were soo goood," Santana sighed, licking her lips as she sat back in her chair.

"I don't know if I like blueberry more than banana pancakes," I said, pressing my finger against the plate and scooping a bit of blueberry leftover off and into my mouth.

"Blueberry, no contest," Santana stared at me, completely serious.

"What, no way," I said firmly. "What about chocolate chip?"

"Still blueberry," she shook her head. "But I don't think there is any kind of pancake that would taste bad."

"Mm, yeah. One time, I went camping with some friends, and we wanted to make pancakes. We didn't have a frying pan though," I shrugged. "So we made them on the barbecue."

"What? No way! I don't... I don't even think that's possible."

"It's true," I insisted. "And they were really good!"

Santana swiveled her chair, bumping her knees into mine. I mimicked her and gave her a small smile. She shifted in her seat, pulling her leg away to step down on the ground and then scooted closer to me. She swayed back and forth, looking down at one of her hands that rested at her sides.

"Oh, there you two are." Rachel's sudden appearance caused both of us to jump. I don't know why, but it felt like we'd been caught doing something wrong.

"You were looking for us?" I said quickly, because the way Santana's eyes were bugging out, I was sure she was feeling the same way I did.

"I was looking for Santana, mostly," Rachel said. She looked at the mess we'd made and her brow furrowed. "You realize it's almost 3pm, right?"

"Oh boo, Berry. Yes, it's 3pm, yes, we slept until nearly 2pm, and yes it was because I had a hangover. Judge all the fuck you want." Santana rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. She seemed to have recovered from being scared. Rachel looked taken aback by her response.

"Why did you need Santana?" I asked. I didn't want Santana to make Rachel mad.

"Uhm, well, I wanted to casually remind Santana that she should stop bringing strangers home with her and then making a racket at six in the morning. Especially when you haven't even lived here for 24 hours."

"Santana didn't bring anyone home with her. Why would you think that?" I looked over at Santana, but she was avoiding my gaze.

"Well, with all the laughing I kept hearing from down here and then in her room-" Rachel started, but a wave of Santana's hand cut her off.

"First off, 'scuse me, still here," she snapped. "Second, for the record, I don't bring guys back here anymore."

"Yeah? Well then, who exactly were you canoodling?" Rachel looked even more annoyed now.

"Canoodling?" I laughed. I guess I wanted to lighten the mood, but I don't think I could have not laughed at that word. It had the word noodle inside of it, like a word sandwich. "That's definitely _not_ what we were doing."

Rachel's jaw fell open and wavered like that for a second. I still couldn't stop laughing, and I think Santana was grateful for that. She started laughing too, but I noticed she still seemed a bit tense. I didn't want Santana to feel like anything she did was wrong.

"I was still up when Santana came home," I continued. "It's my fault, sorry. She's funny when she's drunk, and I instigated it."

Rachel tilted her head to the side. "That's... okay. But why were you in her room?"

"Is that not okay?" I asked. "I mean, is that against the roommate agreement?"

"What, no, Britt," Santana laughed. "Look, Berry, Britt's mattress got jacked. I let her stay in my room. Sorry we were loud, it won't happen again."

"Oh," she said quietly. "I just..."

"You were just jumping to conclusions," Santana said and stood up.

"I think she just felt left out," I said jumping up and linking my arm around Rachel's. "We were laughing all night and then we didn't even save any pancakes for her."

That got Rachel to smile, and I knew all was forgiven. Santana exchanged a glance with me that felt like we won, anyway. I'm not really sure what we had accomplished, but I was just happy Rachel wasn't mad anymore. She slipped out from my grasp and took a step towards the counter, where the empty container for the blueberries was.

"Did you guys use my blueberries?"

"Shit, run, Britt!" Santana shouted and grabbed my arm. I shrieked loudly and we ran as fast as we could up the stairs as Rachel turned to chase us. We got to Santana's room with just enough time to slam the door behind us.

"Santana! I swear, if you eat my food again!" She was banging on the door, and Santana and I were leaning up against it to keep it closed. Santana was laughing her head off. It was the best laugh ever. Whenever she laughed before, it was like she was trying to keep herself poised and careful to let only so much out, but now her nose was wrinkled and her mouth was opened wide and you could see all her teeth. I tried to stop laughing just so I could watch her laugh, but it only made things worse.

Eventually Rachel gave up and we quieted enough to listen as she stormed away. Santana slid down against the door and I sat down next to her. She rolled her side into mine as she caught her breath, resting her forehead on my shoulder.

"Okay, can I just say... consider Tina's shoes filled," she managed to giggle out.

_**Author's Note: Sorry if the chapter seems short. I tried to add more to it, but it sort of just messed with the flow of things. And I had so much trouble writing this because I also find recipes confusing. Thank you, Hannah and Laura for all the help. I promise I won't make writing until 6:30am a habit. :S I wonder if Brittany would find it funny that they stole Berry's berries. :P**_


	7. Take my hand

"I have a confession to make," I said. We were sitting in Santana's car, and she had her attention focused on the road.

"Mm? What's that?" she said, giving me a quick glance.

"I don't actually think I can afford a new mattress," I murmured. "I should have told you before we left."

"I kind of figured as much," Santana replied. "I talked to Rachel about it, don't worry. She agreed that if we find you something under $500, we can take half of it out of your housing deposit. Will that help?"

"What, really?" I pushed back into my seat. That was a huge help. I was planning on getting the cheapest thing possible, so I was really glad I had some options now. But the housing deposit was supposed to be insurance against if I ended up being a bad roommate - I'd been there less than 24 hours and stolen Rachel's food. I didn't understand why they were being so accommodating. Santana must have sensed my uneasiness. She reached over and patted my leg.

"No one plans to have their bed literally stolen, Britt. And seriously, you need to call Jenna and demand she pay you back for this," Santana frowned. "If you don't, I will, cause this be some bullshits."

"I don't think it's her fault..." I twisted my hands. I didn't really want to think of the alternative.

"We won't know until you call her," Santana sighed. "But fine, I'm not going to pressure you into anything."

"I'll call her, tonight," I nodded. The car slowed into the parking lot of a shopping center, and I knew immediately which store we were going into. A huge sign that hung over the entrance read _Mattress Land._

"I figured we would start here, and then grab a bed frame from Walmart or IKEA or something once you know what you want," Santana said as she turned off the ignition.

"That sounds perfect." I unbuckled my seat belt and hurried out of the car. I was already at the entrance of the store before Santana even finished getting out of her seat. She shook her head at me and I could tell I was making her smile again, but I was glad to. I felt like a kid at a toy store. I raised a hand to cup my mouth and shouted, "Hurry up, Santana!"

"Settle down, Britt." She adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder and clicked the beeper for the lock of her car. I was too impatient to wait any longer and ran in. A large man was standing off to the side of the front of the store and I skipped past him to the nearest mattress I could find and plopped onto it full body. Santana shook her head again as she followed behind slowly, nodding to the man. He walked over, clapping his hands together.

"Looking for a mattress, ladies?" he said cheerfully.

"No, we were thinking pillows," Santana shrugged. "Or maybe a rug?"

"Haha, funny, funny girl," he said, waggling a thick finger at her. Santana shrugged lightly, but even from the bed I could see that her lips were tensing into as polite a smile she could muster.

"You look familiar," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You've probably seen me on TV," she said, matching his stance by crossing her own arms. She looked serious, so I wasn't sure if she was pulling his leg or not. He cocked his head to the side while still attempting to maintain a cheerful grin, but he just looked confused.

"A couple years ago, this store, or at least, the one in Lima, Ohio, hired my high school Glee club to perform in a commercial," she elaborated. She glanced at me, her lips spreading into a small smile. "Actually, can I talk to you? Britt, I'll be right back, you keep looking."

I was so confused, but I did as Santana said. I didn't pretend to know what was going on and I trusted Santana. My body went rigid. I wondered why that was - I'd only met her a few days ago, and already I felt completely comfortable with her. Was that really unusual though? Jenna and I had gotten along pretty quickly, but we had a lot in common. I stood up and pushed away from the mattress, clasping my hands to my cheeks and patting them a few times. I could feel myself getting a little hot and I was sure I was getting red in the face. I felt embarrassed, but I didn't know why.

"She'll be annoyed if you're still sitting at the same mattress when she gets back," I whispered to myself, and forced myself to the next mattress over. I collapsed into it, face first this time. It was too firm, and I twisted my head to the side. This was going to be a lot like Goldilocks and the Three bears, except instead of porridge and chairs, I went straight to the beds. I kind of wished my hair was in curls for the occasion. I pushed up from the mattress and crawled across it, careful not to touch my shoes to the surface. I was on my fourth mattress when Santana laid down next to me.

"Find anything you like?" she asked, turning her head to look at me. I rolled over and kept going to bump into her. She smiled and rolled away and I followed until she didn't have anywhere else to go.

"I don't really know," I said, laying almost over her shoulder. "This one is too soft, that one was too hard."

"Mm, we'll keep looking. I've got some good news and some bad news. What do you want first?"

"The bad news," I said. "I'd rather you make me feel bad with the promise of making me feel better again."

"Oh, I hope it doesn't make you feel too bad," Santana said, propping her head up with her hand as she turned to face me. "Turns out they have a bit of a delay in their delivery service, so even if you find something you like, they can't deliver it until tomorrow. So you're stuck bunking with me again tonight."

"That's not bad news," I said. "I guess it's worse news for you. I kind of swim in my sleep."

"Hah, I noticed, the way you were tangled up this morning," Santana said, her nose scrunching lightly and she tapped my nose with her finger. I wiggled it and she laughed. "But the good news is, you can have any mattress you want for free."

"What? For free?" I jerked back.

"For free," she nodded, looking proud of herself. I eyed her suspiciously.

"H-how did you manage that? Oh my god, you didn't kill the manager, did you?" I shot upright.

"No, Britt, what?" she shook her head, her lips peeled back to reveal almost all her teeth as she gazed at me. "No, look, remember I told you about our Glee club, right? A few years ago, we did a commercial for the company. We were never paid for it. Well, we kind of were - we were all given free mattresses. But we weren't allowed to accept them because it would have disqualified us from sectionals."

"I'm sorry, Santana," I shook my head. "I don't really understand."

"I talked to the manager, showed him the video our glee club was in on youtube, and asked if he'd negotiate a deal with me for the mattress," she smiled. "He called his boss or something, and turns out the manager of the store in Ohio runs the entire chain of stores now. He remembered me and well, free mattress."

"Wow," I said. I couldn't believe my luck. I furrowed my brow and shook my head. "But Santana, that's _your_ free mattress. I can't just take that."

"Britt, I already have a mattress," Santana said, raising a brow. "What would I do with two?"

"...make a mattress fort?" I suggested. She wrinkled her nose again and grabbed my hand.

"We can make a mattress fort if you want, but we'll use _your_ mattress. Okay?"

I nodded and she helped me up to my feet. When she turned to walk to the next mattress, her hand pulled away from mine and I instantly missed it. I walked close to her, thinking that maybe if I swayed my hand enough it would bum hers and she would catch it again. Then I realized I was being silly and I took a few steps to the side.

"Where are you going?" Santana asked, gesturing to the mattress next to her. "Did you already try this one?"

"No, I didn't," I said, shaking my head lightly. I was starting to feel red again.

"What kind of bed are you looking for?" she wasn't looking at me, thankfully, as she sat on the mattress. She pushed down on the foam top a few times and then finally looked up at me. I twisted around and sat next to her, avoiding her gaze.

"I don't know," I stretched and laid back, hoping she didn't notice that my cheeks felt red. "My old mattress wasn't very comfortable. I like your bed though."

"Hmm," Santana laid down next to me. Again her hand slide against mine, and I swore she was doing that on purpose. I was sure of it. I breathed in through my nose and held my breath. I nudged my hand against hers, keeping my eyes trained to the ceiling. I wiggled my pinky over hers, tracing it lightly. Her pinky twitched and then linked with mine.

My heart felt so nervous. It was banging against my ribcage, and I think it was because I forgot to breathe. I exhaled slowly and looked over at Santana. She was smiling at me. She pulled our linked hands up in the air and then let them fall back to the mattress. Her smile made me feel less anxious and I hoped that was enough to tell my heart to stop pounding so loud. I was sure that because we were so quiet, she would hear it.

"This one is comfy," she said. "But it's a little harder than mine."

"Should we try another one?" I asked, but neither of us made any attempt to move. I liked just lying there. I was afraid if we moved, Santana would pull her hand away again.

"Maybe we're not testing these right," Santana said. She slowly sat up and as I expected, she pulled her pinky out from mine. I was almost disappointed, but then she grabbed both my hands and started kicking off her shoes. I wasn't sure what she was doing, but she nodded at me to copy her. Once we both had our shoes off, she pulled me up onto the mattress and we started jumping and laughing.

"Let's try to jump to the next one," she said with a grin. She counted to three and we jumped as far as we could. The whole time she kept us linked by at least one hand. We jumped from mattress to mattress, each time taking a moment to roll back and forth on the surface. A few times, we had to rescue one another from rolling off the edge.

We must have tested every mattress on the floor, some of them twice because I insisted on double checking. Eventually I found one I really liked, because it was just as comfortable as Santana's bed. She agreed, she could hardly tell the difference between her mattress and the one I decided on. She spoke to the manager again and signed some paperwork for me, since it was technically 'her' mattress until it got to our apartment.

* * *

><p>The trip to IKEA wasn't as fun. I mean, I really like IKEA, but we weren't jumping on mattresses anymore. I was looking at the really cool kids bedroom sets that I wished I could have had when I was younger when Santana came over to me and linked her pinky with mine again. I was so surprised, I didn't protest when she dragged me away to the big person styled bed frames. Santana said she'd still let me use my housing deposit funds if I needed it for the bed frame, but I found one I liked that I could afford on my own.<p>

After I picked out a bed, I dragged Santana to look at lamps and other things. I couldn't afford anything else, but Santana hadn't let go of my pinky and I wasn't going to either. She let me pull her along and stood by my side as I held up funny cooking utensils and made her help me figure out how they worked. I wanted this day to last forever.

It was almost 9pm when we got back to the apartment. Santana and I carried the box for the bed frame up the stairs and into my room. Santana said we had to unpack it now and put it together, or else we'd have double as much work to do tomorrow when the mattress arrived. I didn't want to, I was super tired, but Santana wouldn't cave in to my begging. I was starting to realize why everyone else did their best to avoid arguing with her. She was really stubborn.

"Britt, I'll finish this. It's late, and I know L.A. is three hours behind us, but you promised to call Jenna when we got home," Santana said. She had most of the pieces of the bed frame in front of her still. I had tried to help, but I made everything worse and Santana had to take it all apart again before starting over. I wasn't allowed to help anymore.

"We haven't even eaten dinner yet," I whined, but I really just didn't want to talk to Jenna. It wasn't even that I didn't want to talk to her. I was just scared about the eviction notice. I knew Jenna had cashed my rent check, and it didn't make sense for her not to pay the rent, unless she knew we were both leaving.

"We're not going to eat until you call her," Santana threatened, looking up at me from the instruction manual that came with the bed. She glared at me and I stared back with my head slightly lowered and my eyes wide. I bit on my lower lip, twisting my fingers in my hands, doing my best puppy dog face. She exhaled sharply and broke her gaze from mine to roll her eyes.

"Stop it," she huffed, unable to keep from grinning. "I'm serious, Britt."

"Please...?"

"No," Santana said firmly.

"Can we order chinese _first_? I'll call Jenna after! I promise! I just need to know the food is on its way."

Santana sighed and dropped the instructions into her lap. She stared at me and almost looked like she was going to yell at me, but she shook her head instead.

"Fine, get the phone. There's a menu on the fridge. But I swear, B, right after, you are calling her."

"'Kay!" I squealed and jumped up. I raced downstairs and was back in a flash. Santana grabbed the phone from me and I scooted next to her to look at the menu. She smacked my leg for sitting on the instruction manual, but I shifted and let her tug it from beneath my butt. We decided to get fried rice and those sugary donut things that I always confuse for dumplings but then turn out to be fried dough or something. She wanted lo mein, but we couldn't remember the difference between lo mein and chow mein, so we got both. I asked if we could get orange chicken too, and she just shrugged and said, "Why not?"

"Okay. Now. Call Jenna." She handed me the phone the moment she finished ordering the food. I opened my mouth to protest, but she surprised me by placing her hand on mine.

"I know, Britt, Jenna is your friend. You're afraid that calling her will confirm she wasn't as good a friend to you as you thought," Santana said and slowly shifted her hand to let her pinky lock with mine. She held it up, letting her elbow rest on her knee, and gently shook our linked hands. "But you can't let her walk all over you. And I'll be right here, okay?"

I nodded slowly and she placed the phone in my hand. I fumbled with it for a second and then punched in Jenna's number. It rang three times before it made a funny dial tone. I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked down at it.

"I must have put in the wrong number," I shook my head. I felt my cheeks burning as I redialed the number. I knew Santana was looking at me. I knew she knew I didn't dial the number wrong. I felt hot again, but this time it wasn't a light, fluttery sort of embarrassment. It was the kind that made my head hurt and my stomach tighten like I was going to throw up. I held the phone to my ear, and again, the out of service dial tone signaled.

_"The number you have reached has been disconnected."_

"I should just get my cell," I said, dropping the phone. I started to stand, but Santana squeezed her pinky tighter to mine and held the rest of her hand against my knee. It wasn't a lot of force, but it was enough to keep me planted to the ground.

"Did she change her number?" Santana asked quietly. She looked at me like she already knew the answer.

"Sh-she's probably just busy and her phone died or-" I started, but I ran out of breath. I was trying to figure out an excuse, something to say that explained why Jenna's number wasn't working. I pressed my free hand to my forehead. Jenna hadn't called like she promised to when she left. And I didn't remember her leaving her key when she left or talking to our landlord. I tried to convince myself that I had been too busy packing my own things to notice, but then I remembered how her attitude towards me moving had shifted the moment she met Santana and Quinn. Maybe she realized that since I was moving out at the same time and they were helping me, there wasn't any harm in taking the rent money for her move? She probably hadn't planned for me to be around long enough to be evicted. But this was the second notice?

Had she done it before? My shoulders started shaking. I wanted to say something. If I said something, it could distract my body from reacting the way it was. But there wasn't anything I could say that would make me feel better. I started to think worse things. Like Santana would think that I was stupid. Or that I was dumb for trusting Jenna so easily. But also that I probably just lost my closest friend over something as silly as a mattress. That even if she hadn't taken the rent money or thought I wouldn't have found out, she already cut ties with me.

I expected Santana to start lecturing me about how I was naive and hadn't been responsible about the situation. That's what my mom would have said. I knew I was getting redder in the face and it wasn't helping that Santana wasn't going to let me run out of my room so I could hide in the bathroom. I felt the tears start streaming down my face, and it just made me feel worse and worse. Santana probably thought I was over-reacting. I didn't want her to see me like this.

"Britt," she said, her voice almost cracked when she spoke. It scared me. I snapped back and looked at her. Her brow was crinkled lightly and her eyes looked really sad. I sniffled and felt more large tears fall down my cheeks. She lifted her free hand and wrapped it around my shoulder and pulled me into a hug. I slipped my pinky from hers and wrapped both arms around her back. I felt bad for crying into her shoulder, but she just held me tightly. She let me cry and didn't say anything for a long while. I was glad, because it let me calm down and catch my breath and not think about anything. She left me to my thoughts and I realized on my own that she didn't think I was stupid or naive or any of that. No one that made me feel so safe and welcome in their arms would think that.

After I stopped shaking and my breathing returned to normal, I realized she was making long, soft strokes up and down my back. I sighed, turning my head and resting my cheek on her shoulder. I felt her cheek press against my neck and her hands stopped to hold me. She rocked back and forth, and it took me a moment to realize she was singing. At first it just sounded like she was humming, and maybe she was, but then I heard her sing a little louder.

"-come stop your crying, it will be alright. Just take my hand, hold it tight," she slid her one hand down my back and fumbled for mine. I let her grab ahold of it, and only after she squeezed it tightly did I squeeze back.

"I will protect you from all around you, I will be here, don't you cry," she kept rocking me back and forth. "For one so small... you seem so strong." I actually coughed out a laugh at that line. I was taller than Santana, and I could only think the opposite of that statement was true, since I was the one sobbing in her arms. I could feel the muscles in her face shift as she smiled against my neck. She must have thought it was funny too.

"My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm. This bond between us can't be broken, I will be here, don't you cry."

I lifted my head from her shoulder, sniffled and giggled at the same time. She used her free hand to fix my hair and brush it out of my face.

"Do you... solve everything... with songs?" I could still barely speak, but I was pretty sure Santana understood what I said. The corners of her mouths raised into a gentle smile and her eyes squinted a bit because of how big her smile was at me.

"God, you think I'm a dork, don't you?" she laughed. She let her hand grace back behind my ear, and she kept stroking my hair. It was sweet. I don't know why it made me feel better.

"No, I like that song," I shook my head, and my nose accidentally brushed her hand. She dropped her hand and I reached for it. She laughed as I raised her hands in mine and linked all our pinkies. "Thank you."

"Are you feeling better?" She swung her hands with mine lightly, mimicking the rocking motion she had made earlier. It was slow and light, but pleasant.

"I am," I nodded. "Sorry... I just-"

"No, I'm sorry, I pressured you to do something you didn't want to do," she shook her head. She held our hands still.

"It's okay." I looked down at our hands. Even though our pinkies were linked and it was a little awkward, I wiggled my index fingers under hers and stroked them with my thumbs. "Jenna's phone is disconnected."

She nodded and waited for me to continue.

"I think she took our last month's rent money," I shrugged, trying not to let it get to me again. "I really thought... we were better friends than that." I think my voice cracked. Santana must have known I felt like crying again, because she suddenly pulled me to my feet.

"Don't make me sing to you again," Santana said.

"What would it be this time?" I giggled.

"Definitely Dance, by Big Sean?" She looked at me expectantly, but I stared back and shook my head.

"Wobble-dee wobble-dee wa, wobble wobble," she started, pulling our arms back and forth to the beat. "I'm sta-stacking my paper - may wallet look like a bible."

I started laughing. She wasn't bad at rapping at all, but she looked too cute to be busting out gangster rhymes.

"I got girlies half naked, that shit look like the grotto," I said, pulling my hands out of hers and bobbed my hand up and down, holding out my index finger and my thumb. "How your waist anorexic and then your ass is colossal-"

"Like woo woo," we said in sync. "Drop that ass. Make it boomerang. Take my belt off. Bitch I'm Pooty Tang."

"Tippy tow tippy tay. You gonna get a tip today," I said, stepping back and dipping down with the beat. "Fuck that. You gonna get some dick today. I. Walk. In with my crew and I'm breakin' they necks, I'm looking all good I'm making her wet, they pay me respect they pay me in checks, and if she look good, she pay me in sex."

"Do it," Santana said, nodding her head along.

"Bounce that ass-"

"-ass."

"It's the roundest. You the best you deserve a crown bitch. Right on that-"

"Ass ass ass ass, ass ass ass ass, ass ass ass ass," we shouted in unison, dipping back and forth and I started to break it down, kicking back and dropping down as I popped back and forth.

"Stop," I popped up, holding my hand up. "Now make that motherfucker hammer time like... wo-oooh."

Santana was clapping her hands, stumbling backwards and laughing, and I cracked a grin.

"I... that," she laughed, needing to prop herself up against the wall. "You're so good at rapping!"

I opened my mouth to gasp and clasped my hands over it.

"That's right, I got you to rap, bitch," Santana said. She dipped her hand forward and drew a check mark in the air. "Cha-chick. Goal met."

"Santana...!" I laughed, pushing her playfully.

"Such a dirty mouth, too," Santana said, dashing past me and towards the door. I caught her and held her in a bear hug around her waist. "You kiss your momma with that mouth?"

"Nope," I giggled. "Didn'tcha here? I got dem bitches and hoes."

She squirmed in my grip, but I held her tight. She twisted enough to glare at me and my smile widened. She quit trying to escape, instead opting to try and argue her way out. Or at least, that's what it looked like until she didn't say anything. In our silence, I realized how close her body was pressed up against mine, and I felt my chest tighten. I felt my goofy grin soften as her own scowl warmed into a bashful smile. My grip on her waist loosened. I was positive now that she knew how hard my heart was beating against my chest, because her back was pressed up against it. Neither of us reacted, we just stood there. I wanted to do something. To say something. Or else my heart was going to go through my chest. I was sure of it.

_Bzzt. Bzzzzzt._

We both jumped, and suddenly reacting was easy again. She stepped forward and I stepped back. She looked towards the door and down at the stairs where the buzzer for the apartment was going off.

"I forgot we ordered chinese," she said. Her voice was thin, almost exasperated. I nodded and followed her downstairs. My mouth felt dry. I gulped, but it didn't help.

**_Author's Note: I intended this entire chapter to be happy and light, but it ended up taking a turn down the wrong way. I'm sorry for kinda throwing you into that, if it made you sad. All my other chapters so far have been really light and happy, so this was a bit more of a challenge to write. Of course, then I made you read that really vulgar rap. I'm not sorry for that, because I thought it was hilarious. A friend sent me that song earlier for irrelevant reasons, so when I remembered Santana was trying to get Brittany to rap, I thought it would be perfect. I had no idea what the actual lyrics were because it was so fast paced, so when I actually wrote out the lines, I was cracking up. I know it's vulgar, and you're all expecting sweet lady kisses, not dicks and dropping ass. Sorry. I would have used Nicki Minaj's bit, but I think that was even worse. _**

.com/watch?v=yq-XtWceWi0

**_But I think its suitable. Why? Because Brittany is a hot damn mess._**

**_Also, sorry, I usually post faster than this. In fact, I finished writing this yesterday, but I was testing out having a Beta. I got super impatient though (sorry, WakingUpInWonderland, I know you're probably mad I didn't wait), and Laura read it over for me. It was good though, because she helped me fix a scene. It's a lot better now. :) I should keep posting at the rate I'm going, but I will be taking a break once Brittana week starts? Maybe? I would like to set aside time to finish some fanart._**


	8. Dreams and gay sharks

I had expected dinner to be super awkward. I suppose, at first, it was. Santana was really quiet as she set out the Chinese food containers on the counter, and I sat on the swivel chair wondering what was going on. I'm a playful person, I know that, but there were so many times with Santana that I just felt funny. The looks she gave me beneath even her sweetest expressions always seemed to say more than the rest of her did.

"Do you think I'm weird?" I asked. She looked up abruptly, her brow immediately furrowing.

"Why would I think you're weird?" She looked a bit more tense than usual. I'd seen her tense, but she hadn't directed it at me before. "For crying?" she added. I was surprised that was what she thought I was talking about. Was I reading too much into her reaction?

"No, I mean, yeah," I shrugged. I guess for crying too.

"I don't think I've ever met anyone quite like you," Santana said. She was fumbling with the carton of lo mein. I grabbed a pair of chopsticks and slipped them out of the paper sleeve. I was terrible at eating with chopsticks. Santana still was still avoiding looking at me, so I wasn't sure if her statement was a compliment or her just being honest.

The door to the apartment sprang open and Quinn shuffled in. She had a few grocery bags hanging from her wrists and her cell phone was propped between her cheek and her shoulder.

"-I don't care," she said, using her foot to kick the door shut. "You already knew she was doing that. No, I got more. Yes, I went to Trader Joe's like you asked." Quinn stumbled into the kitchen and rolled her eyes at Santana. Her lips moved as she set the bags on the counter next to the sink, mouthing, "R-a-c-h-e-l." Santana shook her head and cracked a smile.

"Look, as far as I'm concerned, as long as you replace something you use, it's not a big deal," Quinn said. "Yes, she's right here."

Santana stepped back, waving her hand in the air while using the other to make a cutting motion over her throat.

"Britt, Rachel wants to talk to you," Quinn said, holding the phone to me while giving Santana an annoyed look. Both Santana and I looked puzzled, or at least, she did. I was pretty sure I did too. I took the phone and held it up to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked. I looked at Quinn and Santana. They were exchanging looks, and I couldn't help but feel like they were communicating in a secret code.

_"Hi Brittany,"_ Rachel chirped. From how annoyed Quinn seemed when she was on the phone, I was surprised at how pleasant she sounded. _"Did you and Santana find a mattress and everything okay?"_

"Yeah, actually," I said. "Everything went better than expected."

_"That's wonderful,"_ Rachel said politely. _"I hope you don't mind, but I filled Quinn in on the situation. Did you end up needing to use some of the housing deposit?"_

"No, Santana scored me a free mattress!" I smiled and looked over at Santana. Quinn's brow furrowed and Santana shook her head. I think they could read each other's lips, because I had no idea what they were doing. Quinn's eyebrows raised, and she uttered something quickly. Santana rolled her eyes and waved at her.

_"-exactly did she do that?"_

I almost forgot I was talking to Rachel. "She said something about a commercial and glee club and payment in mattresses. I don't really know."

_"Well, at least that crisis is resolved."_

"Yeah. Umm, is everything okay? Are you mad about the blueberries?"

_"What? Oh, no. Not at you. That's Santana's doing. I just wanted to make sure Santana actually took you to the store instead of dragging you to go... I don't know, drinking or clubbing, or whatever it is she does during the day."_

"I don't think you can do those things during the day," I said, glancing back at Santana. She had her arms crossed over her chest now, and both of them were looking at me curiously.

_"I suppose she is usually sleeping, so I guess I didn't know what to expect. Did she at least make sure you got something to eat?"_

"I'm not a baby," I laughed. "Yes, we ordered Chinese food. Are you working?"

_"I am-"_

"Berry doesn't have a job," Santana said loudly.

_"-Santana refuses to acknowledge musical theater performances as a job," _Rachel sighed. _"It isn't Broadway, but I still get paid enough."_

"Don't listen to her," Santana said, grabbing the phone from my hand. "Berry, until you start paying for groceries, you aren't allowed to bitch to Quinn that Britt and I ate your..."

"-berries?" I said.

"You probably should stop calling her by her last name," Quinn giggled. "And stop hassling her about the groceries, Santana. She pays for her own food."

"Except when you buy groceries for her and she doesn't pay you back," Santana said, throwing a hand in the direction of the plastic bags on the counter. She held the phone back up to her ear. "You aren't allowed to complain about me if I'm not allowed to complain about you."

I looked at Quinn nervously. Santana _sounded_ pissed, but Quinn didn't seem surprised by the interaction. In fact, she just sort of shook her head.

"I work my ass off," Santana exclaimed to the phone. Quinn's eyes widened and she made a grab for the phone. Santana pulled back.

"Rachel, don't-"

"Oh, no you didn't!" Santana looked furious. "¿Cómo te atreves! Tengo un trabajo de verdad! Un trabajo. De. Verdad." She held her hand in the air with her fingers pinched together, striking at the air with each intonation she made. Santana kept shouting in Spanish and Quinn held her palm to her forehead as she leaned against the counter. She peeked through her fingers and stared up at me.

"Rachel probably said something about Santana's job," Quinn said as quietly as she could while still enabling me to hear.

"I thought she worked at a bar," I said, glancing at Santana. She was pinching the bridge of her nose and muttering under her breath.

"She does, but, oh, Rachel told Santana she was going to be a stripper or something in High School... sometimes she feels that it's necessary to bring up Santana's path and how it 'seems like Santana is more inclined to work a night job than pursue a professional career.'"

"Rachel, detente. Ugh, just no, stop," Santana sighed. "I don't care if you're sorry, shit, Rachel. Why do you always have to go there?"

I stood up and walked over to Santana. She held her arm up to protest and twisted away so I couldn't take the phone from her, but I just caught her outstretched hand and tugged on it with both of mine.

"Santana, calm down. Let's eat," I said. She looked at me and then down at my hands. Her body seemed to relax a bit and she sighed.

"No, it's... yeah," Santana said, her voice softening significantly. "Yeah, no, I'm sorry too."

"What...?" I heard Quinn utter. I glanced back, and she looked like she'd seen a ghost. I wondered if it was because Santana apologized.

"Just don't expect me and Britt to share our Chinese with you," Santana said. There was a pause, and then, "Bye." She ended the call and pulled her hand away from me and slapped Quinn's cell phone into Quinn's hand before hastily walking out of the kitchen. I stared after her, unsure of what was wrong. I stood up, but Quinn shook her head at me to stay put.

"Is she mad?" I asked.

"I... I'm not sure," Quinn said. She took off her jacket and placed it on the back of the other swivel chair and followed Santana, leaving me alone with all the untouched food.

I sat there for a few minutes, not knowing what to do. I didn't like seeing Santana so upset. I also felt bad, because I was really really hungry, and I hoped it wouldn't take Quinn too long to convince Santana to come back down and eat dinner. Several minutes past, and eventually I got too antsy. I grabbed the containers and put them all back in the bag. Scooping the food in my arms, I carefully made my way upstairs to Santana's room. I stopped when I saw Quinn leaning against Santana's closed door. She gave me a weary smile and shook her head again, lifting her arms in the air.

"Your turn," she said as she brushed passed me in defeat. I heard her go back downstairs and I huddled close to the door.

"Santana," I said at the door. "It's Brittany."

She didn't reply.

"I'm hungry and I want you to feel better," I said. Still no reply. "Do you want me to sing? I'm not as good as you at that. Would you feel better if I rapped?" I leaned back on one foot, trying to think of a song. Now that I had to sing, I couldn't think of anything. Impromptu my butt, they had to have these things planned.

The door slowly opened, but only a little bit. Santana peeked through the small space between the door and the door jam. Her cheeks were a little red and she looked really sad. Her lips were pressed firmly together and she rested her forehead against the frame.

"I can't think of a song," I said apologetically. That made her soften and her frown disappeared for a second. She opened the door a little more to let me in. I smiled and shuffled into her room, doing my best penguin impression. She let out a small hiccup of a laugh, and I knew I was going to win her over.

"Let's eat, please!"

"Alright," she smiled and nodded. Even though she wasn't as happy and we didn't say a lot while we ate, I was glad she didn't look as nervous as she had when we were in the kitchen earlier. I broke the silence between us by making her teach me to use chopsticks because I was really bad at it. I asked her how she was so good, and she explained that Tina and Mike had made them all learn to use chopsticks. She was a good teacher, it only took me five times to get it almost right. I was glad she was patient with me, and she looked like she was feeling better.

"Do you hate Rachel?" I asked as I almost dropped a piece of orange chicken on its way to my mouth.

"No, we're friends," Santana sighed. "It doesn't really look like it, does it?"

"No, not really," I shook my head.

"Rachel is just really focused on school and her big dreams, and she tries to push everyone else to do the same," Santana looked down at her lo mein. "Sometimes she forgets that I haven't known my whole life what I wanted to do. But her heart is in the right place.

"Truth be told, I wasn't the nicest person to her in high school," Santana admitted. "I made cheap shots at her all the time, and even messed with her relationship to her boyfriend."

I nodded, knowing not to interrupt, but I wondered what she meant by that.

"Some shit happened our senior year, right before graduation," Santana shrugged. "To make a long story short, Quinn and Rachel and the rest of the glee club kids were there when I needed it most. Rachel's the one who helped me with my audition for my music program."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah, she's got like.. perfect pitch and stuff," Santana waved her hand. She went on to explain that she lived on campus when she started at NYU, and she had a really awful roommate. There was a housing freeze because so many students had applied for housing and ended up in overflow that, unless you had a really good reason, you were basically stuck with your space. She told me that Bridgette, her roommate, was a night owl and a clean freak. She would keep all the lights on and pester Santana to keep everything organized at all times. They had such little room between them and no privacy that Santana admitted she had no idea how she didn't end up strangling the girl. Needless to say, when Quinn and Rachel had contacted her about renting an apartment together, she jumped at the opportunity.

"I have my own room, and that's all I cared about. Plus, Rachel really isn't that bad, I just give her crap all the time because that's just how we bond."

"I'm the same way with Lord Tubbington," I nodded. "I know he's self conscious about his meow, but I try to make him sing along whenever I watch the Aristocats."

Santana tilted her head to the side, her brow pinching for just a second before she smiled. Good, she got the joke.

We talked more about Rachel and Quinn and Glee club. Santana listed some of the songs they'd done, singing a bit of the chorus for titles I didn't recognize. I just ate and listened, chiming in every now and then when she spoke. She asked me about my high school experience.

I told her that my school in Cincinnati was one of those specialized art magnet schools, and I spent every moment I could in the dance studio. I had a few friends that were close to me, but some girls made fun of me for still believing in Santa Clause my freshmen year. A lot of people thought I was dumb or stupid because of that, and some other things, so the reputation stuck for the remaining years. I ended up closing myself off from everyone and focused on dancing. It wasn't that I had problems making friends. Now that I was in college, it was easy. I just hadn't had a lot of close friends until I met Jenna, but I didn't mention that to Santana.

Santana and I cleaned up our mess and then she offered to let me shower first. The bathroom was nicer than I remembered it being, but then I realized I hadn't packed any shampoo or conditioner or anything. Santana said I could borrow some of hers. Her shampoo was nice, it smelled like coconuts. It made me think about going to the beach with her. I was in the middle of rubbing soap in my hands when the thought of Santana in a bathing suit popped into my head and the bar slipped from my fingertips. I squeaked and fumbled under the showerhead to grab it, but it was difficult because I couldn't see and I was really embarrassed. Thank god Santana wasn't showering with me - Oh gosh, I almost slipped on the soap.

By the time I was finished showering, I was so hot in the face that I thought I was going to pass out. I dried myself off and slipped on my blue and yellow duck pajama pants. Jenna thought they were silly, but I loved them. My mom gave them to me for Christmas last year. I wondered if Santana would think they were silly. She kept popping back into my head - it was like I couldn't get her out. Was that normal?

"Britt?" Her voice came from the door, and the door handle jiggled. I had locked the door, thankfully, since I wasn't wearing a shirt yet. "I don't mean to sound like Rachel, but it's like, really late. Can you hurry up?"

"Just a sec," I called back and quickly pulled on my top. Grabbing my towel to dry my hair, I turned and unlocked the door. I had barely opened it when Santana rushed in. I was about to leave, but I caught her eye in the mirror.

"Do you need to brush your teeth still?" she asked, looking me up and down in the mirror. The sight of my pajamas made her smile. "Cute."

"Oh, I forgot," I said and stepped up next to her. "You like?" I did a little turn for her. "Ducks are my favorite."

"I like koalas," Santana said, bumping her hip into mine as she grabbed her toothbrush. She held up the toothpaste for me. "But I don't really have a favorite animal. Maybe a turtle or a whale? No, whales are kind of scary, actually."

"Yeah?" I stuck my toothbrush in my mouth. I wondered what was so scary about whales. They always just looked big and fat and happy. Maybe Santana was mistaking whales for sharks.

"Did you know dolphins are just gay sharks?" I said, my toothbrush jammed between my molars and the inside of my cheek. She paused, holding her toothbrush still for a second and her eyes flickered to mine in the mirror. It took her a moment to react, but after her initial confusion, she laughed. She spit into the sink and turned on the faucet to fill a cup with water.

"They _are_, aren't they?" she laughed. "You should tell Kurt that."

"Who's Kurt?" I asked

"Friend from high school," she shrugged. "You'll meet him, probably. He's pretty much Rachel's best friend."

"Who is your best friend?"

"Mm," Santana sipped from the water and spat back in the sink. "Quinn, I guess. Maybe it's a tie between Tina and Quinn."

I nodded and she smiled at me sweetly. I spat in the sink and wiped my mouth.

"Okay, now get out," she said, grabbing my waist and spinning me around. I held my arms out to grip the doorframe as she pushed me.

"Britt!" she giggled. She smacked my butt and I squealed and jumped at the same time. She took advantage of that and pushed me through the door, closing it behind me. I heard her chanting, "_Ass ass ass ass_," and I laughed.

While Santana was in the shower, I took the opportunity to snoop in her room. I figured it was pointless to wait in my room, since I wasn't sleeping there anyway. She had a ton of pictures on her pin board, the one above her bed I saw last night, and most of them had Quinn in them. A lot of them had them in their cheerleader uniforms, and I was instantly envious. They were smiling brightly in all the photos. A few of them had Rachel, too, and an Asian girl. I saw one with the girl and Mike in it, so I knew that must be Tina. That one looked like a birthday party - Santana was laughing and had her hands up defensively. Her nose had frosting on it and Tina and Mike were holding cake in their hands. They looked like a fun group. I wished I had gone to Santana's high school.

I sat down in Santana's circle chair and spun around until I was sitting in it upside-down. I saw across the room that she had a bunch of CDs on her shelf, so I kicked off the chair and did a tumble onto the carpet. Scrambling back to my feet, I made my way over to browse her collection. She had Amy Winehouse's _Frank_ and _Back to Black_ albums, some Lady Gaga and Adele, too. I didn't recognize a lot of the other artists. I was surprised by the collection - Santana had a lot of diverse music. She even had a CD by Ladysmith Black Mambazo. I didn't recognize them, but they had a really long name, so I pulled the CD out and started reading the list of songs on the back.

"Rifling through my things already?" Santana said from the doorway. I jumped.

"Sorry!" I squeaked, trying to put the CD back, but I missed and fumbled with it in the time it took Santana to walk across the room. She grabbed it out of my hand before I could put it back.

"Oh," she smiled sheepishly. "They helped popularize a vocal style called mbube - do you know that song from the Lion King? The Lion Sleeps tonight? That was inspired by their style of music."

"That's awesome," I said. I wondered why she knew that. She put the CD back and raised her towel to ruffle through her hair.

"I'm freaking tired," she yawned and collapsed into her bed. She patted next to her and I shuffled over and then jumped into it. She shouted and had to roll out of the way, but she did just in time to avoid being squished. I rolled towards her like we had at the mattress store and she nearly fell off, but I caught her. She turned and started tickling me in revenge.

"Ah, no, stop!" I laughed, swatting at her hands and kicking at her as gently as I could, but it was hard because I couldn't breathe. I opened my arms wide and trapped her hands at her sides as I hugged tightly around her waist. She wiggled back and forth, but she couldn't push off the mattress because she was on her knees.

"Okay, you win," she giggled. I let up on my grip a bit so she could have her hands back, but I stayed hanging onto her.

"Britt, are you tired?" she asked, running her hand against my hair. It was still a little damp, but it felt nice.

"Mm," I hummed my response, my cheek pressed against her stomach. I think it tickled her, because she laughed again.

"You can't sleep like that," she said, continuing to rake her fingers through my hair.

"Yes, I can," I mumbled. I didn't remember closing my eyes.

"Well, I can't," she said softly. I nodded and let my hands slip away. She made me move so we could untangle our blankets. I wrapped up in mine, but I wished I could hug Santana again. She was warmer than my blanket was. She turned off the light and plopped down next to me. She took a minute to get comfortable but then rolled to her side and stared at me in the darkness.

"Are you feeling better?" I asked. I fished my hand out from underneath the covers and poked at the one she had resting in front of her. She nodded. That was good. I didn't like Santana being sad. She hadn't said she was, but the way she reacted to Rachel earlier, I knew she was unsure about something.

"Santana, what _is_ your dream?"

I think the question caught her off guard. One second she was looking at our hands as I ran my fingers over hers. The next, she was staring at me as paralyzed as if I had just slapped her.

"What?"

"You kept saying that your glee club and friends helped you figure out your dream and then you got really upset because Rachel said something that made you feel bad. But then you told me she just forgets how other people feel. But you haven't told me what your dream _is_."

"Oh... well," she looked back at our hands. I'd stopped playing with her fingers, and now she was nervously poking at mine. "Every time I say it out loud, it sounds silly."

"What is it?" I urged. It was dark, but I think she blushed. I turned my hand and wiggled my pinky around hers and squeezed tightly. "You can tell me. I won't laugh."

"Well, I'm in the record music program at NYU, so I think it's obvious I want to be in the music industry," she said with a light shrug. "But I really want to be a singer. Not just a songwriter or someone who mixes records. But like... a legit singer."

"That's not silly," I said, bouncing our hands together. "Why would anyone think that's silly?"

"Because it's hard," Santana murmured. "I don't know... everyone knows Rachel is going to be a Broadway star one day, and Quinn is really smart - she'll succeed at whatever she pushes herself to do. But even though I'm on the right path, I always feel like I'm a step behind."

"I think you'd be an amazing singer," I said. I was being honest. I'd heard her enough to know that. Why didn't she believe in herself? She was so feisty about everything else, I didn't think it were possible for her to be so insecure.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"Santana?"

She looked back at me, and I smiled.

"You _are_ an amazing singer," I said. "Just wait. I'm going to be able to brag to everyone I know that my roommate is Santana Lopez."

"Heh... just your roommate?" she asked. I prayed she didn't see my cheeks redden.

"Friend?"

"Definitely," she giggled. "I think Tina's gonna be jealous."

"Why?"

"You've got her running for her money," she smiled.

"Is her money going somewhere?" I asked. I recognized the expression, but I didn't know what Santana was talking about.

"I just mean, you're a really good friend, Britt," she laughed. "Thank you for making me feel better."

"I didn't really do anything," I said. I inched a little closer to her. I don't think she noticed. "Besides, you got me a free mattress today. It's the least I could do. Whatever it is I did."

"I knew it," she gasped. "You're just toying with me to get free mattresses and pancakes."

"I'm a hustler," I shrugged.

"Pretty good one," she yawned, closing her eyes. I noticed she didn't move her hand. I was glad she didn't. I liked the pinky thing. It felt like a promise. I took a moment to look over the soft features in her face and memorizing them before I had to close my eyes. I promised myself that I was going to help Santana realize that she could do anything.

**_Author's Note: I just want to say, the one thing I regret about this story is that Brittany will never have written My Cup. )': That is all._**

**_Oh wait. I should translate the spanish or something. I forgot I wrote it. Santana says, "¿Cómo te atreves! Tengo un trabajo de verdad! Un trabajo. De. Verdad." She says "How dare you! I have a real job. Job. Real." I think. Sorry, I don't pretend to know spanish. She also tells Rachel to stop in spanish._**

**_Sorry I didn't post yesterday - I really wasn't sure if the Santana/Rachel interaction read okay. I wanted feedback before I posted it, so I actually waited for my Beta this time. Good news, though, I'm half way through the next chapter already, so... I guess I'm back on schedule._**


	9. You Know I'm No Good

A light buzzing came from Santana's iPhone, followed by a portion of Amy Winehouse's _You Know I'm No Good_. Santana groaned, wiggling her head further into her pillow and towards the nice, soft, warm something that was encasing her to muffle the sounds of her alarm. She inhaled and something tickled her nose. Her eyes fluttered open and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the blurry something less than an inch from her face. She realized it was a strand of hair that was tickling her, a soft blonde one, and she froze. She became suddenly aware of how Brittany's arm was lazily pressed against her waist, and more importantly, how her own arm was snaked underneath and wrapped tightly around Brittany's back.

Brittany was almost snoring, so despite feeling awkward about the position they were in, Santana carefully eased her arm out from around Brittany. The movement caused Brittany to shift, her grip tightening around Santana and pulling them closer together. Santana's arm pulled tightly to her chest, and she inhaled sharply. Brittany sighed against her forehead, causing Santana to dip her head down and realize how very close her own mouth was to Brittany's collarbone. She was afraid if she exhaled, Brittany would wake up. She wasn't sure how to proceed as she realized virtually anything she did would cause Brittany to stir. She shut her eyes tightly and the immediate darkness was comforting. No longer having to see that she was pressed so tightly to Brittany made it a lot less stressful, and she found herself sighing and welcoming the warmth of having Brittany hugging her. She reasoned that, at least, if Brittany woke up, she could feign being asleep.

Several minutes passed, and then Santana's phone went off again. Santana's shoulders tensed as the song played.

_"I cheated myself, like I knew I would. I told you I was trouble, you know that I'm no good. I cheated myself-"_

* * *

><p><em>"-told you I was trouble, you know that I'm no good."<em>

My brow furrowed at the sound. I wasn't sure what it was, but I was so comfortable. I had had a good dream. I think there had been dancing. But now this song came out of nowhere. At first I thought maybe Santana was singing to me, and that made me smile. Then I remembered I was sleeping in Santana's bed and I wondered why I was so warm. I opened my eyes and realized instantly that everything warm and comfortable I was feeling was Santana. She was curled up tightly in front of me, and I could feel her breathe on my neck. My arm was wrapped around her, too. I wanted to panic and jump up, but she was asleep still, and I cared more about that than I did about the position she would find us in if she woke.

My heart started racing. Even though I was pretty sure we weren't close enough for this to be any sort of okay, I liked this so much more than pinky holding. I was scared and nervous and happy and cozy all at once. I knew I couldn't stay laying like that, so after Santana's phone went off again, I reluctantly slid my hand away from her. I tried my best to inch back without waking her, but suddenly her eyes opened and I froze, staring into pools of dark brown.

After the longest pause, she said, "...hi," in the softest voice. I didn't think it was possible for someone to sound so small. She didn't seem upset about me hugging her. In fact, her reaction was so off from what I expected, I thought maybe she didn't know we'd been spooning. I smiled.

"Morning," I croaked. Damn it. How could she sound so cute when she first woke up, but I sounded like a toad that swallowed a broken bicycle horn? Santana shifted, looking up and stretching her arm up to grasp around for her cell phone. She found it and turned off the alarm.

"What time is it?" I asked, my voice still scratchy. She smiled and reached up to fix my hair.

"It's 7:13," she said and sat upright. I copied her. "You don't have to get up. I'm sorry my alarm woke you."

"It's okay," I nodded. "Do you have class?"

"Mm," she nodded. "Yeah, but I'll be back before lunch. Do you wanna meet up?"

"I can't..." I stretched lazily. "I have class too, but it's from eleven to one."

"We can make it a late lunch if you want?" Santana rose to her feet and started towards her closet. "Unless... maybe you want some space? We've been kind of hanging out a lot."

"I don't mind," I chirped. Oh good, my voice was coming back. Santana smiled and turned to her clothes.

"Yeah, but I'm kind of hogging you. I bet Quinn and Rachel will be jealous I've been keeping you all to myself."

"Don't tell them, but you're my favorite," I said, pressing my finger up to my lips.

"Haha, your secret is safe with me," she said earnestly. She spun around and held up a shirt. "Yes or no?"

"Super hot," I nodded.

"Thanks," she winked. I inhaled sharply. I didn't think winks could do that, but I felt like my stomach did a flop.

"Anyway, we can all just meet back here and have lunch together." She started rifling through a stack of pants and eventually pulled out a long pair of dark wash skinny jeans. "That way there's no pressure to commit to anything. Rachel and Quinn are usually here by noon."

"Okay," I nodded. I laid back down in the bed, soaking up the warmth of where Santana had been laying before it disappeared completely.

"You look tired," she commented as she walked to her dresser. "When do you have class again?"

"Eleven..." I murmured. She was right, I still felt really sleepy.

"Give me your phone, I'll set an alarm for 9:30, okay? Is that enough time?"

"Mm," I said, raising my hand straight up above my head and sliding it back and forth until I found my cell phone. It wasn't a fancy phone like Santana's - I lost it too often to trust buying an expensive one. She snatched it and quickly flipped it open. A few seconds later, she set it above me on the shelf of the headboard.

"Done," she said and leaned down to run her fingers through my hair. I sighed and tilted my head to the side. It felt so good.

"Go back to sleep," she cooed.

"But I wanna talk..." I mumbled. My eyelids were so heavy.

"I have to get ready, so we can't talk anyway, B," she giggled. She just kept stroking her fingers through my hair. I was so tired; I didn't even care if this wasn't something friends did. Santana could do whatever she wanted, and I'd still like it.

"Don't go..."

"I'll be back," she promised. "If you're still awake after I get changed, we can talk before I go to class."

"Please hurry," I muttered and closed my eyes.

"I will," she giggled. She stopped petting my hair and I sighed happily. I don't know if she came back or not, because I fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Santana sat in the kitchen, poking and prodding at the mushrooms that were on the kitchen island countertop. It was a little after one now, and Brittany still hadn't come home yet. It made her anxious. Rachel spun around and smacked her hand for the umpteenth time and grabbed a handful of the mushrooms to toss into a frying pan in front of her.<p>

"Aren't you going to eat?" Rachel asked, glancing back at the slumped over Latina. Santana grunted in response.

"I'm waiting for Brittany," Santana said, her chin resting against the counter.

"Hm? But I thought Quinn was taking her to lunch?" Rachel said. Santana sat upright, suddenly looking more awake.

"When was that decided?" She looked distressed.

"This morning, while Quinn and I were eating breakfast," Rachel said, her brow furrowing a little. "You were too busy running around trying to get ready, I guess, to pay attention."

"I wasn't not paying attention, Rach, I wasn't part of the conversation," Santana growled. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"I thought Q did," Rachel shrugged. "Stop being so defensive. I guess she didn't tell you because she didn't want you to ruin their lunch date or something. I mean, we've hardly seen Brittany since you've been doing everything with her."

Santana's shoulders slumped and she leaned back into the counter.

"I was just really looking forward to lunch," Santana said. "And I'm _so_ hungry because I waited."

"You can have some of my noodles," Rachel offered.

"No thanks," Santana wrinkled her nose.

"Why is it when I offer food, you refuse, but then you'll steal my food behind my back?"

"Because the food you cook is gross," Santana said, sitting back and crossing her arms over her chest. "And the food I steal is usually things like fruit or chips."

"Ha! So you admit it!"

"I never denied it," Santana said, raising a brow. "You just never noticed."

"I was joking," Rachel frowned.

"Your jokes suck," Santana rolled her eyes.

"And here I thought you were in a better mood lately..." Rachel returned her attention to the pan, and Santana tilted her head to the side. She had been in better spirits lately. She thought back to last week when Tina announced Mike had asked her to move in with him. Santana had been the most upset by the news, and yet here she was, the most content about their new roommate situation. She didn't want to admit it, but she already hated the idea of sharing Brittany with anyone else, even if it was just Quinn.

"I can make you something else," Rachel said, interrupting Santana's thoughts. The Latina stared up at her with an unimpressed look upon her face.

"Just because I don't eat it doesn't mean I can't make you grilled cheese or something," Rachel shrugged.

"Doesn't that go against your religious beliefs?" Santana frowned.

"Being vegan is a dietary choice, Santana. I'm Jewish," Rachel scowled and angrily returned to making her own lunch. Santana smirked.

"Fine, make me a sandwich, bitch," Santana said.

"No, the offer is no longer valid."

"Aw, c'mon!" Santana whined.

Rachel's hand that was holding the spatula in frying pan held still for a moment. She sighed, "...what kind of bread...?"

"Fuck yes," Santana cheered. She even jumped up a little to pump her fist in the air. "You're so god damn easy."

"Says the girl that sleeps with any guy that buys her a drink."

Santana's shoulders tensed and her eyes narrowed. "Really, Rachel-"

"Sorry, it slipped," Rachel squeaked. "I didn't mean that... I- You can make fun of me for only ever being that intimate with one person."

"Eh..." Santana shook her head. She relaxed, seeing how petrified Rachel already looked. "It's no fun when you expect it."

"...I'm really sorry for yesterday. Quinn told me how upset I made you," Rachel said quietly. She removed her noodles from the heat of the stove and walked to the pantry to get the ingredients for Santana's grilled cheese.

"It's fine," Santana shrugged.

"Really?" Rachel looked up. "You normally hold a grudge against me for days when I say stuff like that."

"I know you didn't mean it. Besides, there's a limit to how much I care about your opinion." Santana stood up and walked to the refrigerator. She handed Rachel the butter and cheese for the sandwich.

"One day, you're going to need me and I won't be around to help," she shook her head.

"Like I care," Santana said, peeling open a packet of cheese and tearing a piece of the square to throw in her mouth. Rachel pouted and glared up at the latina, but Santana gave her a quick, barely present smile to show that she was joking. Rachel brightened and then grabbed the cheese away from Santana.

"If you eat it all, I can't make you your stupid sandwich."

"Can you make me two?" Santana asked nicely. Rachel rolled her eyes and sighed.

* * *

><p>I stretched as I exited the dance studio on the third floor of the Juilliard building. Fridays were my solo classes, so while I really was getting the best help possible, I always left exhausted. My timing was off all day, and I just couldn't focus on my routine. I think it had to do with that dream I had when I fell back asleep. It was that weird one I kept having.<p>

I would be in a huge dance hall, and I would step out onto the stage. Everyone in the audience wore blank expressions, and then a spotlight would hit me. It was blinding, and I couldn't see anything else, but it only made me realize I was alone on stage. My routine was a duet, so when the music started, I didn't know what to do. I would try to do the routine on my own. I would stumble around my dark environment, all the while unsure of where the stage ended and fearful that I would fall. Then, someone would grab me from behind and pulled into the choreographed routine. My back pressed against theirs, I was led back to the opposite side of the stage. When I was twirled around, I tried to glimpse at my partner. In the short moment I was able to see them, I realized they didn't have a face. I got scared and my movements stiffened. I pulled away, leaping across the stage, but my partner pursued me. I would usually wake up after being caught around the waist, and I always did so by jolting upright.

The buzz of my cell phone pulled me out of my distracted thoughts. I flipped it open and saw a text from Quinn.

_"There's only one Juilliard building, right? I'm outside, let's get lunch."_

I smiled and quickly sent her a text back saying I'd be right out. I wondered if Santana was with her.

"Hey," Quinn waved as I walked out of the building. I was a little disappointed to see she was alone.

"How did you know when I'd get out of class?" I asked, skipping down a few steps to meet her at the base of the stairs.

"I asked Mike," she said. That made sense. We had to post our class schedules in the office. Quinn was really smart. I wouldn't have thought to call her work.

"Are we gonna get lunch at the apartment?" I asked. I wasn't sure if Santana was waiting for me. We had kind of made plans, but I wasn't sure if we had agreed to anything specific.

"Are you worried you'll miss Santana?" Quinn said and we started walking down the block side by side. My eyes bugged a bit and I nodded. How was she so perceptive?

"Don't be," Quinn said. "Santana can fend for herself. It's my turn to hang out with you. If she gets mad about it, you tell her I dragged you away."

"I'm more worried she'll be mad at you," I said.

"I can handle Santana," Quinn said with a light laugh. "Now, can we focus on you? That's the whole point of me taking you to get lunch."

"Does that mean you're paying?" I asked. "Cause I didn't bring my wallet with me."

"That's not really responsible," Quinn said, her brow furrowing with concern.

"I'm irresponsible," I shrugged. Quinn smiled, but I couldn't help but notice she didn't think it was very funny.

"Alright, but you owe me," Quinn said. "What do you want to eat?"

I thought about it a moment and said, "French fries."

"Oh, uhm," Quinn, tilted her head to the side. "We can get French fries almost anywhere."

"Yep! Isn't that great?" I said happily. "We can go where ever you want, because I just want french fries. Oh, and a milkshake."

Quinn and I ended up going to a cafe. She ordered a salad and some tea and I got chicken tenders and French fries and a strawberry milkshake. She thought it was gross that I dipped the fries in the milkshake, but I insisted she try it before she judge it. She didn't like it and I told her she was crazy, because they tasted just like waffles when you mixed the two together. She asked me why I didn't just order waffles. I told her it was because it was lunchtime, not breakfast, and she stared at me.

"So, aside from dancing, what do you like to do?" Quinn asked. She had finished half her salad and didn't seem intent on finishing it. I nibbled at a fry before I spoke.

"Well, I like listening to music. And watching tv," I said, ticking off my fingers. "And taking pictures."

"I love photography," Quinn smiled. "What kind of camera do you use?"

"Oh... I don't know," I looked down at my plate. I think she wanted to talk about some common interest we shared, but I was pretty sure by the way she said photography that she misinterpreted what I had said. I wasn't a photographer, I just liked taking pictures. And videos.

"I take videos more than I take pictures," I said, trying to mend the misunderstanding before she realized we were talking about different things. She probably meant photography as like, art, whereas I meant pictures of things like Lord Tubbington in a sun hat.

"Oh, so you use a digital camera?" she said, still smiling. I was glad she didn't seem disappointed. I don't think I would make a good photographer - I took a class in high school, and I accidentally ruined everyone's film by turning on the light in the dark room. It was so dark; I couldn't see the bins we were supposed to develop our film in. I didn't want to touch the chemicals with my bare hands because I was afraid I'd turn into a mutant or start glowing.

"Yes. I don't know how to sync it to my computer though, so I have like a million videos I don't know what to do with."

"Oh, well, I can help you, if you want," Quinn said and stole one of my fries. I was glad to share, since her salad didn't look very appetizing.

"That would be so awesome," I agreed and began to suck on the straw of my milkshake.

"Any other hobbies? Interests? Boyfriends?" she winked. I hiccuped and almost choked on my drink. I had a feeling she'd been wanted to ask me that all along.

"Um, no, no boyfriend," I said after I regained the ability to speak. I pushed my straw around in its glass. I knew she wanted to hear more than that, but I didn't know why I felt so uncomfortable sharing that with Quinn. Maybe if Santana asked, it wouldn't be so hard. "I've never really had a boyfriend."

"Oh?" Quinn sat back, looking really surprised. "I...okay, um... Have you just not liked anyone?"

"What?" Oh geez. Quinn was confusing. Or maybe I was. I wasn't being very clear. "Of course. I just haven't been in a relationship before. Like... I've gone out with guys before, and like, done stuff." I widened my eyes a little when I said 'stuff'. I didn't know what Quinn's thoughts were on casual dating or one-night stands, and I didn't want her to think less of me. But I didn't really have any thing to be embarrassed about. Guys were allowed to sleep with whoever they wanted, why couldn't I?

"Phew, I thought for a second you were a virgin," Quinn shook her head. "Santana would have had a field day with that."

"Do you have a boyfriend?" I asked. Quinn shook her head.

"No, I'm not looking for one either," Quinn shrugged. "I've had too much drama with boys, and right now, I'm just focusing on school and myself." She held her hands out in front of her as if she were pushing the thought away physically. I nodded.

"That makes sense," I said. "What are you studying at school?"

"I'm in the drama department at NYU," Quinn said.

"So you want to be an actress?"

"Is that strange?" Quinn looked a little shy. I had a feeling she felt the same way about acting as Santana did about singing. They loved it, but they didn't think they were good enough.

"No, it's awesome. The three of you all have such big dreams, but in all these different areas of performing arts," I said brightly. "I'm impressed you all get along so well."

"I'm surprised you think that, considering last night," Quinn sighed. "I assume Santana calmed down once you talked to her?"

"I thought we weren't talking about Santana," I said quietly.

"I just didn't want it to be the only thing we talked about," Quinn laughed. "I'm really surprised. Even Tina had trouble getting Santana to stop freaking out about things."

"Really? Santana said you and Tina are her best friends though," I said.

"She did?" Quinn reacted like the thought had never crossed her mind before. I was slowly piecing together that Santana didn't talk to people about her feelings much. "Interesting... Yes, well, Santana and Tina are close, but sometimes Santana's antics are a little stressful for everyone... Tina included."

"Why is that?" I wasn't sure if we should be talking about Santana behind her back, but I really wanted to know more about her. She was like a book I wanted to read, but someone cut out the some chapters and hid the pages in other books. But Quinn made it sound like I was the only one with a copy of the rest of the book.

"Well, imagine coming home one night with Rachel freaking out because Santana brought some guy home from a bar and had the nerve to barge into her room in the middle of making out with him and trying to rip his shirt off."

My eyes widened at the visual. I wanted to laugh, because I could imagine Rachel being hysterical, and I know it was mean, but I found that hilarious.

"Only, then you find out that Santana has locked herself in the bathroom, sobbing like a maniac because she's so drunk she can't remember why Rachel is mad in the first place."

I smiled sympathetically. This was the story Santana told me a little bit about, and I couldn't help but feel bad. I'd be crying too if I forgot why someone was yelling at me.

"So pretend you're Tina, and you've been stuck between a rock and a hard place for the last hour, trying to console Rachel at the same time as trying to coax Santana out of the bathroom. And when you finally get Santana out of the bathroom, you realize she misplaced most of her clothes and have to deal with that, too."

I nodded. That did sound stressful. I suddenly felt bad for Tina. But at the same time, I was pretty sure that Santana would have tried to make it up to her. She really liked Tina.

"Brittany, I know you've taken a liking to Santana, but don't let her bully you, okay?" Quinn frowned. "She doesn't always think about other people's problems."

"That's not true," I said quickly. I didn't know why I got so defensive so quickly, but it almost made me mad that Quinn said that. "She offered to help me pack all my things. And then when my mattress was stolen, she let me stay in her room. And then she got me a new mattress for free! She's _so_ nice. Why does everyone keep treating her like she's a bad person?"

Quinn was startled by my sudden outburst, but I didn't care. It wasn't fair for everyone to be so hard on her. Even if Rachel didn't mean to, she made Santana really upset yesterday. And here Quinn was telling me that Santana was too selfish to care about anyone else. Sure, it sounded like Santana made some bad decisions sometimes, but so far, I'd gotten a chance to see a really good side of Santana. Even when she was drunk, she was really nice. And you were supposed to accept the good and the bad in people - that's what friends did.

I realized I was gripping the edge of the table really tightly and I had stood up from my chair. I slowly sat back down in my seat and looked down at the table. Maybe I had overreacted. Quinn just wanted to make sure I didn't end up in Tina's situation and have to deal with all of Santana's problems. But I wanted to help Santana with anything and everything she was willing to involve me in.

"Hm," Quinn tilted her head to the side, crossing her arms over her chest. She seemed calm and collected again. "Maybe I misunderstood. I'm sorry, Brittany. I shouldn't tell you how to be friends with anyone. I think you're right. Santana has done some really nice things for you - who knows, maybe she's turning over a new leaf with being your friend."

Quinn stretched her hand across the table and gently placed it on mine. It wasn't as comforting as Santana's pinky. I felt my shoulder muscles loosen and my head bobbed in a slow nod.

"I didn't mean to yell," I said softly. "I just think Santana is a good person, she's just struggling with a lot and she's too strong or proud to let you guys know."

"You two have gotten really close really quickly," Quinn observed.

"I guess so," I shrugged lightly. "We just kind of click. Has that ever happened with you?"

"Mm, no," Quinn laughed. "I hated Santana and Rachel when I first met them. But we're like, best friends now. Isn't that weird?"

"It is," I nodded. Weirder than Santana and me, I thought.

**_Author's Note: So it has come to my attention that the title of the story seems misleading based on what has happened so far. I'm sorry it's taking so long to actually get to the ...bigger plot of the story. I'm not leading you guys on, there will be dancing eventually. This chapter was full of Brittana, Pezberry friendship, and Quitt friendship/sort of. Things are slow going, but I hope the pacing isn't bothering anyone too much. _****_Oh, and, um, please don't hate Quinn because of this chapter. I... had trouble writing their interaction. They don't have much in common._**

**_Also, I really enjoy your reviews - I'm sorry I don't respond to all of them, I try to respond to as many as I can think of replies to. I wish some of the messages weren't anonymous or whatnot, because you guys have really funny/nice things to say! If you want, you can message me on my tumblr - sometimes I get the same questions and I'm terrible at remembering if I answered them or not. My tumblr is monochromeheartbeat . tumblr . com. Also, Laura pointed out that she would call me Mono because she didn't know my name, and that it made me sound like a disease. We decided HeeBee was better. LOL. I'm glad you guys reply to my messages - some of the conversations I've had just answering questions have helped me figure out future chapters, so I promise I'm serious when I say your reviews really help. That's the end of a long rant about myself. :)_**

**_Anyway, Chapter 10 is being a real big butt. I'm sorry if it's delayed, I'm having trouble writing Tina. ):_**


	10. Thought of You

"You're early," Tina said as Santana walked in and approached the bar. The Latina sighed and set her purse on the counter and slumped into a barstool.

"Wanna talk about it?" Tina asked, leaning on the counter.

"Hm? Oh, no, nothing is wrong," Santana said, furrowing her brow a little at the question.

"Pretty girl walks in with a frown on her face and a sigh like that," Tina shook her head, placing a hand on her hip while still leaning on the other and doing her best bar tender impression. "Something's up."

"Shut up, Tina, you can't serve alcohol. Get out from behind the bar," Santana said.

"Well, you're irritated," Tina frowned. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Santana shrugged.

"It's not the new roommate, is it?"

"No, of course not. Brittany is just great," Santana shook her head. "I'm maybe a little bummed because I was supposed to hang out with her this afternoon, but Quinn and Rachel took turns having play dates with her."

"And you were left all alone? Poor Santana," Tina said, trying not to laugh as she gently rubbed Santana's arm. "So, tell me more about her. Last time I saw you was the day she was moving in. Is she really so popular with everyone?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's really weird. Quinn met her at her school to take her to lunch, and then Berry dragged her out to go shopping before I could even get a chance to talk to her." Santana twisted around on the chair and hopped off.

"Have I already been replaced?" Tina gasped.

"I think you have," Santana said jokingly.

"That's just sad," Tina shook her head. "Is your heart really that fickle?"

"Who said anything about me having a heart?" Santana gasped.

* * *

><p>Thursdays through Saturdays at the bar were always busy, so Santana had her hands full with orders. Tina had gone back to her station as hostess, leaving the Latina alone to manage the bar. The owner's son, Rory, had dropped by a few times to restock the alcohol, but for the most part, she'd been by herself. She was glad it was busy, because it distracted her from this empty feeling she'd had all day.<p>

"Hola, mamasita," a voice called from down the bar. It broke her from her thoughts. "Besaaame... mucho."

Santana rolled her eyes and turned around to face the speaker, fully prepared to crack down on the guy for speaking the lamest Spanish pick up line she'd ever heard. She stopped short at the sight of the mohawk.

"Oh my god, Puck!" she shouted. She immediately abandoned the drink she had been mixing and squeezed out from behind the bar. Screw the customer, she thought. They could wait. She hopped up and wrapped her arms around his neck and felt his strong arms pull her up from around her waist.

"Wow, I thought you were working, but you only get that happy to see me when you're drunk."

Santana squirmed out of his grip, too surprised by his appearance to snap back at him. She punched him lightly in the arm, to which he feigned being harder than it was.

"I haven't seen you in like a year, Puckerman," she said. "And _that_ was the first thing you came up with to say to me? _Besame mucho_?"

"I don't get one for old times sake? Especially since now you're assaulting me?" he grinned. Santana shook her head and leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"That's all?" he pouted.

"Yep, that's all," Santana shook her head. She knew that route was a bad idea. Puck had always been a cause of tension for anyone involved, even if he was super hot. It was better to steer clear of that and focus on the good aspects of Puck as a _friend_. He was surprisingly good at that sometimes.

"Where have you been?" Santana asked, but the insistent coughing of a customer drew her attention away. She slid back behind the bar to finish mixing the drink, half focused on the customer's complaining and half listening for Puck.

"Puckasaurus has been on the move," he said, leaning up against the counter. "My band's been booking gigs wherever we can - last week we landed a permanent gig here in Manhattan, so... yeah. I'm back."

"Glad to see you," Santana flickered a smile and then handed the drink to the customer.

"When do you get off?" he smiled. It was goofy and charming at the same time.

"In an hour," Santana said shyly. As if on cue, Tina appeared behind Puck.

"I told you not to distract her, Puck," Tina said and grabbed his arm. "You're supposed to be catching up with Mike and Sam - Santana, you can flirt later."

"Sorry, Puck," Santana winked. He gave her a nod and let Tina drag him away.

"Join us when you get off," he managed to call. Tina pushed him into a booth next to Sam and then proceeded to swat Mike several times on the shoulder, and it looked like she was scolding him for not keeping a leash on Puck. Santana shook her head and a small smile formed on her lips, but it disappeared as impatient customers called her down to the other side of the bar.

* * *

><p>I collapsed on the mattress. Rachel and Quinn had just managed to help me drag it into my room, unwrap it, and put it on the bed frame. Apparently there was an extra charge for actually bringing the mattress upstairs, and being tight on money, I had somehow managed to convince Quinn and Rachel to help me.<p>

They were a lot of fun - Rachel had taken me around the neighborhood to show me the closest stores for anything I needed, and then we took a bus out to Target even though it was further away than Wal-Mart. Rachel said that it was because it cost more in fare to take the subway to Wal-Mart since it was across the bay. I had fun, and Rachel helped me pick out new sheets for my mattress. I had forgotten to do that when Santana took me to IKEA. Rachel ended up buying some things, too. She said Tina had taken some of her cooking things by mistake and also wanted to get something for Quinn for getting her groceries yesterday. She asked me what kind of chocolate I thought Quinn would like better and then bought a box of Quinn's favorite kind of tea.

I didn't realize just shopping around would take so long, but I was glad that I got to know Rachel a bit more. As much as she seemed to annoy Quinn and Santana, I understood why they kept her around. She really cared about both of them. She told me that Santana had forgiven her about their mishap yesterday, and I was glad. I knew Santana had been upset, but hearing Rachel talk about it, I knew she felt just as bad. She asked me if I wanted to watch a movie with her, too, but I was exhausted from class this morning, all the shopping, and now the moving of the mattress.

I peeled my face off the bed and looked down. I still had to put the sheet on, and I hated doing that. It was always so complicated, trying to figure out which side was the long ways and the short ways of the sheets, and then there was the ordeal of trying to get all four corners on without one side unsticking. I ended up trying to tackle putting the sheets on my bed by pretending I was a sugar glider and hooking each corner around my hands and feet, but since the mattress was a full sized bed, I wasn't very successful. The sheet ended up coiling around me somehow and I almost got stuck. I wished Santana didn't have work so she could help me, but after about fifteen minutes of struggling, I managed to make my bed.

The instant the bed was made, Lord Tubbington appeared out of nowhere. I hadn't seen him in a while. I think he was still getting used to the apartment, trying to find all the secret hiding places. I made a mental note to follow him tomorrow so I could find them too. Then I'd sneak up on Quinn or Rachel or even Santana and scare them. That would be fun. Lord Tubbington hopped onto my bed and curled up. He looked more tired than I was.

"Were you out all day too?" I asked, scratching his head. He purred and tilted his head in my hand. I knew he had been sleeping all day, but I liked to pretend that he got into hijinks while I was out.

"I had so much fun today," I told him, closing the door and stripping my shirt off. I turned away to toss it in the hamper and also so I didn't have to flash Lord Tubbington as I took off my bra. I always thought it was weird because I never see him blink when I'm changing. I pulled off my pants and slipped into my pajamas. Once I was clothed, I jumped into my bed and shuffled my feet under the blanket until I was fully covered.

"Quinn offered to help me with my computer so I can upload your videos to YouTube," I said, feigning seriousness. I yawned and turned to lay on my side, squishing my face into my pillow.

"And Rachel is really nice. She told me I should come to one of her performances. Her next show is tomorrow, but she said that was a little short notice, and she could get me a ticket sometime next week."

Lord Tubbington didn't react, and I figured it wasn't really important to him. I sighed. Even though I had a fun day, I was disappointed I didn't get to see Santana at all. The moment I came home, Rachel dragged me back out the door. I had all of a second to exchange a wave. The feeling of missing Santana was stronger now that I was lying in bed with just Lord Tubbington. I should have probably felt comforted, since I hadn't gotten to cuddle with him since I moved in, but he wasn't the cuddle buddy I wanted. Realizing that was the case, I pinched my eyes shut and mentally shouted at myself. What was wrong with me? Santana had mentioned me probably wanting space, but I was sure it was her way of being polite about asking for some too. She was probably glad she didn't have to share a bed with me again. I roll and twist and turn in my sleep. Not to mention, this morning I had been really awkward and pulled her into that weird hug.

I wondered what she thought about that. Waking up with my arms wrapped around her. She hadn't reacted how I expected her to. She just seemed to accept that it happened and didn't even mention it. Did that make it okay? My stomach tightened when I remembered how cutely she'd spoken to me and how badly I'd wanted her to keep stroking my head when I was dozing back to sleep. Had I been more awake, I think I might have tried to convince her to stay.

I could feel that my cheeks were burning again, and I lifted my arm to cover my face. Even if it was just Lord Tubbington in my room with me, I didn't want anyone to see how silly I must have looked. I let myself focus on breathing for a while so I didn't burn up. I reasoned that tomorrow I would make sure we got to hang out again, because I didn't like this whole missing her thing. It made it difficult to sleep. With that decision made, I rolled over again and reached for Jeremy, my pillow pet, and gave him a tight hug. It wasn't as good as a pinky squeeze or a sleepy embrace, but it would have to do.

* * *

><p>Santana was pressed up against the wall, her arms wrapped tightly around Puck's neck. He moved away from her lips and started to kiss her neck, forcing her to loosen her hold. She slid her hands down his back, and when he started to suck on her collarbone, her eyes fluttered open. This was wrong. It was happening too quickly. She hadn't even asked him where his band was playing.<p>

Puck noticed her freeze up and was prepared for the moment she pushed him away. He took a step back and she turned away quickly to head back inside to the bar. He caught her arm.

"Hey, Santana, stop," he said softly. "It's okay. I get it. We should catch up first."

"No, I don't want to do anything first," she shook her head, tugging her arm. He tightened his grip and pulled her towards him, grabbing her shoulder with his other hand.

"I'm not mad, you don't have to run away," Puck said. She was staring to the side, her lips pressed tightly together. She looked like she was trying to shrink away or turn invisible to avoid talking. It wasn't something that surprised him. She didn't like talking about feelings.

"Just look at me, Santana," he urged. "Making out aside, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, wrenching her shoulder back. "We're just moving too quickly. I haven't seen you in forever. This is wrong. I mean, with _Quinn_ and then _Sam _is inside - just..."

"Okay," he nodded. He let go of her wrist. "Okay. This was stupid."

Santana looked up at him finally, blinking several times as though his understanding words and soft tone of voice was a first.

"You're not mad?" she asked. She had never turned down his advances before, not unless they were fighting about something else. And that sort of thing happened a long time ago, in High School.

"Hey, no means no," Puck smiled. "I get it." A laugh forced its way out of Santana's throat, but it came out a little strangled and it was evident she'd been on the verge of tears only seconds before. She was surprised when he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin against the top of her head.

"Would you like me to get Tina?" he asked, twisting back and forth to sway her from side to side. She sniffled into his chest and nodded.

"I didn't mean to ruin our reunion," she stuttered.

"It's okay, it's my fault," he said, pulling her along with him as he approached the back door of the bar. "I shouldn't have made you drink so many shots."

Puck managed to coax the girl back into the bar and immediately sought out Tina. She was sitting on Mike's lap, laughing about something Sam was saying. The instant she saw sight of Santana, her smile softened and Puck gave her a light-hearted shrug. He mouthed, "S-o-r-r-y," but she waved at him as she stood and grabbed Santana's shoulder. She appeared concerned, but not at all bothered by the fact that Santana was fully crying now, and dragged her to the restroom.

"What happened?" Tina asked, rubbing Santana's arm. The Latina stumbled towards the tiled walls and slid down against it into a crouched position. Tina turned around and quickly locked the door before kneeling in front of her.

"Santana, it's okay, just tell me what's wrong," Tina said soothingly. She reached over and offered her hand to Santana and just waited. Santana was trying to catch her breathe between sobs, and it only took a few seconds for her to start hiccuping. She quickly grabbed Tina's hand and squeezed.

"N-nothing," she said. "It's not that s-serious."

"Even if it isn't serious, there's still something," Tina said quietly. "Is this about Puck? What did he do?"

"H-he kissed me," she stammered, leaning her head down and pressing her forehead to their conjoined hands.

"Okay," Tina said, raising her free hand to brush back Santana's hair. "But that's not really uncommon or surprising, Santana."

Santana hiccuped again and just sat in Tina's arms for a while. It could have been a minute or it could have been several. She didn't know, she just focused on trying to catch her breath again so she could explain to Tina what was wrong.

"...it was just... it felt wrong," Santana said, quiet as a mouse.

"Because there are feelings?"

"Because there weren't any," Santana admitted. Tina helped Santana sit up again now that she had stopped crying so hard. A few tears would roll down her cheeks, and her mascara was ruined, but she had stopped audibly sobbing.

"...Santana, how drunk are you?" Tina asked.

"I... I don't know," she sniffled.

"Drunk enough not to remember how much you drank," Tina nodded. "Let's get some water in you-"

"-can we wait a few minutes?" Santana grabbed Tina's arm and held her still.

"Of course," Tina nodded. "Do you want to talk more?"

"I don't know."

"This isn't about Puck, is it?"

"No..."

Tina leaned over and pressed her forehead against Santana's, wrapping her arm over her shoulder and sat with her in silence for a while on the bathroom floor. Santana began to nervously pinch the seam of her skirt.

"...give me some sort of clue, Santana," Tina sighed. "Is it because of your classes? Did Rachel do something again? Or... did Quinn?"

"This isn't about Quinn," Santana said and pulled away from Tina. She was getting defensive and closing up again. Tina could tell she was sobering up, even if it was only a little bit.

"We've talked about this before, Santana," Tina frowned. "You don't have to be embarrassed or upset."

"I'm not upset," Santana spat, twisting and stumbling to her feet. "Not about Quinn."

Santana staggered towards the stall and leaned against it, facing away from Tina.

"Then about who?"

Santana paused, hesitating momentarily. Was it even about anyone in particular? Her brow furrowed, and her lips pressed tightly together. She thought maybe it was just about how much she _didn't_ like kissing Puck. But why? She'd kissed him, and more, tons of times before. And of course it wasn't about _Quinn_ - why had Tina brought Quinn into the conversation? That was ages ago, Tina had never even _known_.

"It's not about anyone," Santana insisted.

"Santana, you know I love you right? And nothing would _ever_ change that. I'm not like your parents."

Santana let out a little choke of a sob. Tina stood up and walked over to Santana, wrapping her arms around the Latina in a light hug from behind. Santana tensed, but eventually accepted the embrace.

"You don't need to be perfect, Santana. You're not going to disappoint anyone by just being you, because you're amazing the way you are." Tina whispered as she held her tighter.

"I'm just really confused," Santana said almost inaudibly. She sighed. Even though it wasn't possible for Tina to know what was going through her head, she was glad that Tina always seemed to know exactly what to say. It was as if she knew about all the tension Santana had been feeling, like her body had been screaming at her when Puck started to make out with her. Or how nervous she was feeling all day because she didn't know how to react to this morning's escapade with Brittany. That was it - Brittany.

When she woke up in Brittany's arms... She was positive it had been an accident, but it had scared her. Not at first. No, when she first woke up, she felt safe and warm. The moment she realized it was Brittany holding her, and worse, that she had been snuggling just as much back, her brain started screaming at her. But she couldn't understand how something that felt so right was making her react like it was so wrong.

She shook her head, remembering Tina was still hugging her. She was appreciated Tina trying to comfort her, but the embrace reminded her all the more just how _different_ this morning had been. It hadn't been _just_ a hug with Brittany. She twisted around and returned Tina's hug. No, it wasn't at all the same.

"Thank you," she murmured. She couldn't find the words to say much else. Tina had helped her calm down a bit.

Tina kissed her forehead. "Anytime, hun. Come on, lets get you home."

With Tina's assistance, Santana managed to stumble into the elevator in her apartment complex. She assured Tina she could make it to her apartment from there, and Tina gave her a quick hug between the elevator doors until it started to beep in that irritating manner when something is preventing it from closing. Tina said good night and left, waving good-bye as the doors closed. It took Santana several minutes of leaning against the elevator wall to realize it hadn't moved because she forgot to hit the button. She swayed back and forth once the elevator started up, trying to keep herself awake while she waited. All she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and sleep. It felt like it took hours for the doors to open again. She stumbled out, rustling through her purse to find her keys.

Once inside, Santana stiffened at the darkness and stillness of the living room. She was still inebriated, but she was aware she had to be careful not to awaken anyone. A drunken master, Santana slipped her heels off and crept around the coffee table. She was feeling proud of herself when she reached the stairs for not making any noise until she tripped on the second step and crashed down on her knee. She stifled a yelp and cursed under her breath as she pulled herself up with the railing. She limped up the rest of the stairs and sat down at the top to inspect her knee. After verifying it was fine, bruised at most, she spun back around and noticed Brittany's door was open. It was just a crack, for her cat to go in and out as he pleased, but it was just enough space for her to see Brittany's sleeping form in her bed.

Santana crept forward and opened the door a bit more and leaned against the frame. She smiled, glad to see that the mattress had been delivered and that Brittany didn't wait up for her to get home. Her smile faded, however, when she realized it meant that she would be returning to her own bed, Brittany-less. She considered the pros and cons of joining Brittany in her new bed for a moment, but she decided she was drunk and it didn't matter. She pushed the door open and did her best to tip toe forward without waking the blonde.

Just as she placed her knee against the edge of the mattress, the fat cat tucked up against Brittany's stomach opened his eyes. The tiny pinpricks of light shown at her like headlights, and she froze. The cat had caught her red handed. She was a bandit, trying to steal away into Brittany's bed. She couldn't help but think the cat instantly knew she was up to no good. A low growl confirmed it.

"Shh," she hissed back. Her back arched in a mock cat-like manner. "Shut up, you stupid cat. You'll wake-"

"-tana?" Brittany's voice croaked a small whisper. Santana froze, aware that she was crouched over Brittany's legs as she had tried to crawl into the bed. The blonde shifted, slowly rising just enough to twist and look up at Santana. She was hugging that purple unicorn thing tightly in her arms.

"Hey, Britt-Britt," Santana exhaled. She did her best to mask the nervous tension by giggling. There was no recovering from her actions, so she crept forward, crawling around Brittany's body and scooting up next to her.

"...you drunk?" Brittany asked sleepily and rose her hand to tap at Santana's cheek.

"Yep," Santana smiled, tilting her head so that Brittany's hand pressed up against it fully. "Can I sleep with you?"

"Mm, sure," Brittany nodded. Santana was sure that the blonde was too tired to protest. She lifted her arm around and pulled the pillow pet out of Brittany's arms as she kicked her feet underneath Brittany's comforter.

"Santana..." Brittany muttered. "Gimme Jeremy back..."

Santana wiggled her body underneath the rest of the covers and put Jeremy beneath her head. She snuggled up against Brittany's back and draped her armaround Brittany. She felt a giggle bubble up in her throat as she leaned forward, placing her chin on Brittany's shoulder.

"I'll be your pillow pet," she whispered.

"No, I'm the pillow pet," Brittany sighed.

"Mm," Santana nodded. "Much cuter than Jeremy. Is this okay?"

"Yes," Brittany said. Her hand slid down and grasped Santana's, pulling up and forcing the Latina's hold to tighten. "How was work?"

"Fine. You're tired. Go back to sleep," Santana cooed.

"M'kay..." Brittany didn't need to be told twice. Santana forgot all her worries from earlier that evening. Any concerns she had over cuddling with Brittany were forgotten. With a content smile, Santana drifted off to sleep.

**_Author's Notes: This was a terribly difficult chapter to write. Thank you SO freaking much, WakingUpInWonderland, for helping push me past my stupid block. Lemme just say, I am going to do my best to avoid separating Brittany and Santana again - it's so difficult to write. It is NOT okay._**

**_I should have posted this yesterday when we finished putting it together, but my friend dropped by for funsies and we got drunk. I hadn't gone through the rest of the edits Waking had done for me, and I was pretty sure if I accessed the file to post it, I would have just left in all the notes we made in parenthesis and I would have looked like a damn mess._**

**_My favorite part was the pillow pet scene. :P_**

**_-HB_**


	11. Where Dem Girls At?

The loud buzz of my cell phone vibrating against my bed frame woke me up. I groaned and untangled my hand from the confines of what I was sure was my blanket. As I made a grab for phone to silence it, an arm tightened around my waist and for a moment I froze. I always woke in terror from that dream, right after I was grabbed forcefully around the waist. Now, I was awake, and the soft squeeze of Santana's arm offered a different kind of trepidation. The buzzing of my phone drew me out of my momentary pause, and I quickly flipped the phone open to turn off my alarm.

Santana nuzzled closer into my back as I shifted, and I instantly felt comforted. I strained my neck to look back at her. From what I could see, she was still sleeping peacefully. I felt bad that I had set my alarm to go for a run this morning. I wasn't sure if crawling out of bed would wake her. I bit my lip. I hadn't gone running at all this week because of the move. I really had to get back into routine, but it was the hardest thing to get out of bed.

I managed to peel back Santana's arm and maneuver around Lord Tubbington. Once I had escaped the confines of my bed, I glanced back down at the two. Lord Tubbington looked like he might be dead, so I prodded him until I saw his chest heave up and down in one giant, sleepy sigh. I didn't poke at Santana, though. Instead, I leaned forward and ran my fingers through her hair to brush them out of her face. Now that I had a better view of her, I noticed that a lot of her make up was smudged. I delicately traced my finger under her eye to dust off dried bits of mascara. She looked like might have been crying, and suddenly I wanted to crawl back into bed and give her a tight hug. She let out a soft sigh, and I remembered she was sleeping.

I stepped back. I reasoned Santana would be still asleep when I got back. It was super early, and she hadn't woken up the last time she'd been drunk until really late in the afternoon. I would make sure she was okay when I got back.

* * *

><p>Santana shifted groggily. She turned her face to bury it further into her pillow, but the fuzzy material that Jeremy the pillow pet was made of was enough to wake her. She stared down at the fluffy purple unicorn and then snapped upright. The action caused Lord Tubbington to wake abruptly as well and his claws sank into her legs. She cried out and swatted the him away, missing by an inch as he tore away from the room. Her gaze followed after him and then over to the long, slender legs that he had passed.<p>

* * *

><p>I froze, my arms lifted up and holding my shirt above my head. I hadn't managed to pull it all the way over my head yet and I couldn't see, but I knew that Santana was staring at me. I was thankful that I was at least wearing my undergarments and that my back was facing her, but I knew that I should have changed back in the bathroom. I couldn't though, because Rachel had started knocking on the door the moment she heard me turn off the shower.<p>

"Um, sorry," she squeaked and I heard her shuffle. I pulled my shirt down quickly, glad that it was long enough to cover up most of me as I twisted to face her. She had thrown the covers over her head and was now just an amorphous lump in my bed. I slipped on my jeans and hopped over, pulling the blanket away from her face. She was hugging Jeremy tightly in her hands, her face buried into him. I could see a tinge of red on her cheeks.

"That was my bad, Santana," I said reassuringly. She shifted and nudged her shoulder forward so that my hand dropped away. I wanted to frown, but I couldn't help but smile. She was really embarrassed. It was super cute.

"I'm dressed now, you don't have to hide," I laughed. She rolled forward and away from me, slowly sitting up. She held Jeremy in her lap and looked a bit dazed.

"Do you remember coming home last night?" I asked, sitting down on the bed and inching towards her. She stared at me, wide-eyed, and slowly shook her head back and forth. I stifled a laugh. She looked like she had been caught stealing cookies or something, and I didn't know why. I'd been the one responsible for changing in front of her just now.

"You asked if you could sleep in here," I nodded. "Sorry about Lord Tubbington. You scared him."

She nodded slowly and I made her untuck her leg from beneath her so I could see if Lord Tubbington's scratch was deep. It wasn't, but I gasped at the sight of the large bruise on her knee.

"Does that hurt?" I asked. She just shook her head and pulled her leg away. I didn't know why she was so quiet, but it made me uneasy.

"Santana, are you okay? You're make up is all smudged and you're really quiet."

"I-I'm fine," she nodded. "I should go back to my room - sorry for taking up half your bed-"

"It's okay," I smiled and gave her a light shrug. She made her way to the edge of the bed and approached my window. My brow furrowed. "Where are you going?"

"My room-" she said, pausing as she placed her hands on the windowsill.

"Through the fire escape?" I said, tilting my head to the side.

"Um," Santana stared down at her hands and blinked several times. She still had Jeremy tucked under her arm. "It's just Rachel told you not to let me in your room while I was drunk. She's going to think I was in here crying and bothering you all night if she catches me."

"I don't care," I said. I stood up and walked over to her. I placed my hand on her arm gently. She reacted like I had hit her, recoiling backwards. She dropped Jeremy. I knelt down to pick him up and heard her push the window open.

"I ca- I have to get ready for Mike's dance class," was all she said as she slipped through the opening. I stared after her quizzically as I held Jeremy in my hands and watched her sneak across the fire escape to her own room. I looked down at Jeremy. He was a little lumpy because Santana had slept on him, so I gave him a light kiss on the forehead.

"What was that about?"

* * *

><p>While Santana, Quinn, and Rachel were at Mike's dance class, I went and bought some desperately needed groceries. Quinn had explained to me that they all shared milk and condiments - generally everything but Rachel's specific groceries were fair game as long as I replaced them. But I needed to get my own bread and eggs and things because I had to make sure I ate enough carbohydrates and protein. I had a bit difficulty getting everything home. I clambered through the door to the apartment, struggling with my bags.<p>

Santana was curled up on the couch, still wearing her NYU sweats from dance class. She stood up immediately and hurried to help me to the kitchen, and I heard shouting from the television as we passed. She set down one of my bags on the counter and without a word started putting things away. Even though she was helping, she was still avoiding eye contact with me like she had been all day. I asked her where Quinn and Rachel were and she told me that Rachel had her theater show and Quinn was out with Tina getting dinner.

"What are you watching?" I asked, handing her the last thing from my bags.

"Just some reality show about this woman that claims to be a psychic," Santana waved her hand. "It's really dumb, we can watch something else."

She sat down on the couch and I plopped down next to her. I noticed she withdrew her legs and sat up a little to put some space between us. I looked down at the ground, a little disappointed she was being so strange.

"Hey," she said, forcing me to look up. She was smiling sweetly at me. "What do you want to watch?"

"...Little Mermaid?" I giggled. Her smile broadened and she shook her head. She threw a pillow at me, and I caught it.

"You and that movie," she rolled her eyes. "Seriously, something on tv."

"Are there any cartoons on?"

"Mm, lemme check," she said, scrolling threw the TV guide. I hugged the pillow to my chest and glanced over at her. She looked a little more relaxed now... I inched closer as a test. She didn't seem to notice.

"There's... Spongebob or Phineas and Ferb," she announced and looked over at me. I looked up shyly, hoping she hadn't noticed I scooted closer. She surprised me by shifting her weight and leaning towards me.

"Phineas and Ferb," I nodded. I liked Perry the Platypus. I always wanted a pet platypus.

"Okay," she said, clicking on the Disney Channel and setting the remote on the coffee table. When she pulled back to the couch, she shifted again, eliminating the space between us. I stared at the television and tried my best not to notice, but every time she moved, it felt like my heart beat extra hard. We were about halfway through the episode when she tilted her head and rested it on my shoulder. I think my heart stopped.

"I've never seen this show before," Santana said.

"Is it bad? We can watch something else?" I asked nervously.

"No, it's funny," Santana said. "I feel like a little kid, watching saturday morning cartoons. Except it's Saturday afternoon."

"And we're not wearing our pajamas," I nodded in agreement. She laughed and seemed to curl up closer to me. I looked down at her and smiled. I was glad she wasn't being so weird anymore. My hand stretched out before I could stop it and I linked my pinkie in hers. I felt her tense against my shoulder, but then she squeezed my pinkie tightly.

"How was dance class?" I asked.

"Awful," she grimaced. She sat up, and I was sorry I said anything. She kept a hold of my pinky, though. "Mike's class is really hard."

"That's because it isn't a beginner's hip-hop class," I said.

"It isn't?" she looked confused.

"It's not exactly intermediate, but he's better suited for working with people that have some experience dancing."

"But I _do_ have experience dancing. And I don't want to be caught dead in some beginner's course," Santana huffed.

"That's a shame," I said with a light-hearted shrug and sat back, leaning away from her. "Because I teach Introductory Hip-hop on Wednesdays."

Santana paused. Her lips pursed together momentarily as she contemplated her next response. She wiggled our linked hands against my knee and then sighed.

"I have class and work on Wednesdays," she shrugged lightly. I felt my shoulders droop a little. "It's okay, I'll get better, I just have to keep going."

"Okay," I nodded. I don't know why, but I was disappointed by her answer. My disappointment didn't last long, because a second later, she leaned over and laid against me, leaning her head on my arm. I smiled and couldn't fight this bubbly feeling that took over my body from the pit of my stomach.

We watched another episode of Phineas and Ferb. By the end of it, she had snuggled up and rested her head in my lap, and I hand unlinked our pinkies to stroke her hair softly. She grabbed my other hand and reattached her pinkie to mine. When the commercials came on, she slowly sat up and grabbed her phone. She looked really sleepy, and I was about to ask her if she wanted to go to bed when she set her phone down and started to run her hands through her hair to tie it up.

"I've gotta go to work," she announced as she tied a hair band around her pony tail. She gave my knee a light squeeze and pushed off it to stand up.

"I guess I should probably eat something," I nodded, realizing I'd done all that shopping and hadn't eaten yet. She lingered at the base of the stairs for a moment. I didn't notice until she had already turned to go up them and get ready for work.

* * *

><p>"Santana!" Santana looked up from pouring a drink. I rushed towards the bar, several feet ahead of Quinn and Rachel.<p>

"What are you guys doing here?" Santana frowned at Quinn and Rachel, but her expression softened as I hopped into a bar stool.

"What is it you would say, Santana?" Rachel pondered.

"I think it would be, 'Gittin' our drank on'," Quinn nodded as she slipped into the seat next to me.

"Like either of you two could ever get your drank on," Santana said, sliding the drink she finished mixing down the bar. She leaned against the bar and turned her attention to me. "What can I get you, cutie?"

"You can't ignore paying customers," Rachel pouted.

"Like you two are paying for anything," Santana rolled her eyes. "It'll end up on _my_ tab." My eyes widened, and Santana's expression softened again. "Drinks on the house for you."

"I've never had anything 'on the house,'" I said excitedly.

"That's not fair, Santana," Rachel said, finally sitting down on my other side.

"What's not fair?" All four of us turned and looked up. An Asian girl stood in front of us and had her arms crossed. Her head was tilted to the side. "You guys aren't fighting already, are you? You _just_ got here."

"Have you met Tina, yet, Britt?" Santana asked. I giggled and nodded.

"She's the hostess, of course I did," I said happily.

"Just put their drinks on my tab," Tina said. "Since you're being greedy, Santana."

"No one can ever take a joke," Santana rolled her eyes. She placed her hand on mine and smiled at me again. "What do you want?"

"Something sweet and yummy," I said.

"I can make you whatever you'd like, sweetie," Santana said. "A daiquiri, maybe? I can make you an appletini. Do you like those?"

"I dunno," I shrugged. "Do you have something sweet and sour?"

"I can make you a midori sour," Santana nodded.

"Does it have fruit in it?"

"I can put a maraschino cherry in it."

"Can I have lots of those?"

"Of course," Santana laughed. I smiled brightly, glad that Santana was in charge of mixing my drink. I usually just gulped down anything anyone gave me, trying my best to stomach the taste. Rachel and Quinn ordered their drinks too, but Santana waved them off and took her time making mine first. By the time she finished their drinks, I had managed to snatch all the cherries out of my glass.

"Loo' 'an'ana," I said, sticking my tongue out to reveal the cherry stem on my tongue.

"You can tie it with your tongue?" Quinn asked, sounding impressed.

"Uh-huh," I said, slipping my tongue back in my mouth and chewing down on the stem. I don't think you were supposed to eat them, but I liked to suck on them because they still tasted sweet.

"Wanky," Santana winked. I nearly swallowed the stem. "Want another one?"

"Yes!" I said after I stealthily spat the stem in my mouth back into the glass. "You... can hold back on the cherries." Santana laughed and made me another drink, but she still gave me a cherry. She leaned on the bar, holding her chin in her palm while Rachel spoke about her theater performance and Quinn told Santana about her dinner with Tina. I noticed Santana kept glancing at me and smiling whenever I caught her eye. She made sure to refill my drink whenever I finished it.

"Alright, ladies," Tina said, hopping over. I spun a little too quickly to greet her and nearly fell out of my chair. Santana's arm stretched across the bar and caught my shoulder and steadied me.

"Officially off the clock," Tina smiled. "Santana, make me something strong, I need to catch up."

"Um, hell no, bitch, I'm off too then," Santana said. Not two seconds later, her replacement stepped out from the back. He looked friendly, but Santana disappeared quickly before she could introduce him. He smiled at me, and I giggled.

"Can I getcha anythin'," he asked in a thick accent. I was pretty sure it was Irish, but I didn't understand a word he said.

"Sorry, what?" I slurred. Arms snuck around my waist, and I laughed as I twisted to see Santana had circled the bar already.

"She's good for now, Rory," Santana said to him, and he nodded.

"Santanaaa," I laughed. "Are you going to drink?"

"I am," she grinned. She glanced at Rory again and he didn't wait to be told what to get. He quickly poured a shot of tequila for the Latina, and she snatched it and tilted her head back. She slammed the glass back down and demanded another.

"Uh-oh," Rachel laughed. After she downed her second shot, I leaned back against her.

"Santana, I want to dance."

"Don't you ever get tired of doing that?" Santana laughed. I kept leaning back and almost fell out of my chair again. She caught me and held me up as I found my feet to stand. I turned around to face her and gripped her shoulder for support.

"Never!"

"Mm, yeah, we can," Santana nodded. "But not here."

"Why not?"

"Do you see a dance floor anywhere around?" Santana said, gesturing to the rest of the bar. I looked around slowly. There were booths and tables, and even a stage for karaoke, but not enough room for a dance floor.

"Let's go down the street," Quinn said, grabbing my hand and twirling me out of Santana's grasp. I felt her try to grab my hand, but Quinn had already pulled me away. I laughed as Quinn pulled me into step with her as we headed towards the door.

"Come on, Santana!"

Santana lingered behind, and I twisted to see Tina gently prod her forward. She caught my gaze and a smile returned to her face.

* * *

><p>There were so many people at this club. I don't remember what the sign at the door said, or if there even was one. Rachel and Quinn were dancing next to me, and I was trying to tell Tina that I thought her hair was really pretty. I don't think she could hear me. Santana stumbled between two people. I could barely hear her, but I think she cursed at them in Spanish as she rose her hands to keep the glasses in her hands from tipping. She made her way over to me and handed me a glass.<p>

"What is this?" I shouted.

"What?" I saw her lips move.

"What is it?" I repeated. She shook her head, pointed to the glass and then gulped it back. I think she was telling me just to drink it. So I did. It burned going down my throat and made me grimace. Santana laughed at my reaction.

"That was mean!" I shouted. She shook her head. She still couldn't hear me. I grabbed her hands and pulled her closer. "You're mean!"

"I'm kind of a bitch, didn't you know?" she said. I nodded and wrapped my hand around her neck.

"I want to see you dance," I said.

"Oh god, no, Britt," Santana laughed. I swayed back and forth to the song, trying to pull her along with me. She was reluctant, but eventually she started to dance with me.

_Like a game of chess, I predict your move. I think I know you better - better than you do._

"I think you lied," I said, twisting around and dipping down and pressing my back up against her. "You're pretty good at dancing!"

I didn't see her face go pale, but I felt her hands grip my waist and push me forward a little bit.

_I just wanna run, throw it away. Run before they're finding me out. I just wanna run._

"Britt, don't-" She turned away from me.I felt a little sad she wouldn't dance with me. I didn't think I'd done anything wrong, but she looked uncomfortable, so I stepped away. I bumped into Rachel and started laughing into an apology. She grabbed my hands and started to dance with me, and I let her.

_So many girls in here, where do I begin?_

The song shifted and I heard Quinn and Rachel squeal. I laughed as they pulled in closer to me. I shook my shoulders and wiggled to the beat, and they started to sing along to the worlds.

"-then she said, I'm here with my friends," Rachel laughed.

Quinn bumped up next to her and rose her hand up as she spoke. "She got me thinking, and that's when I said!"

"Where dem girls at, girls at!" all of us shouted the chorus in unison, including Tina. She was dancing her way over, and I glanced up and noticed Santana swaying awkwardly by herself. I felt like I should go over to her and try and pull her in, but she had been so uncomfortable when I danced up against her. I spun around to face the other girls and stepped back as I moved back and forth.

"Hey, bring it on baby, all your friends. You're the shit and I love that body," I dipped down and back up, moving my hand in a curve upward to trace the outline of Rachel's form. "You wanna ball, lets mix it, I swear you're good, I won't tell nobody." I stepped forward and leaned up to Quinn. "You got a BFF, I wanna see that girl, it's all women invited. Hair do's and nails, that Louie, Chanel all up in the body! President's in my wallet. No rules I'm 'bout it. Blow the whistle for the hotties."

Tina was laughing, so I abandoned my post at Quinn's side and snuck up to her. "Uh-huh, I got it. Shawty, it's never to much, can't be doing to much, ten to one of me, I can handle that love, outta of my reach, we can all get buzzed. Holla, 'cause I'm free, no matter it's no rush-"

"-So many boys in here, where do I begin? I see this one, I'm bout to go in. Then he said, 'I'm here with my friends.' He got to thinkin' and that's when he said-" Tina shouted. She had held her hand up to her forehead, pretending to scope out the area as she sang.

The girls broke into the chorus and I stepped in the center of them. I was feeling so good and so happy because we were drinking and dancing. I hadn't gone clubbing a while, and I'd never gone with so many people that could be my friends. I don't know why I started it, but suddenly I was lifting my shirt off over my head. A second later, it was gone, and I didn't even care that I had lost it. I started to press up to Tina again, lifting my arm up to wrap around her neck, and I dipped down. She looked a little embarrassed, but she was still laughing. I liked it when everyone was smiling and laughing. I spun around and saw that Santana had moved forward, right up against me. My shirt was in her hands.

"Hey hey, what can I say? Day da-day da-day da-day day," I giggled as I shrugged my shoulders back and forth along with the song. She looked mad, but not at me. She grabbed my hands and I could tell she was trying to slip my shirt back on, but I pressed my hands forward and wrapped them around her neck. She struggled against me, but I kept swaying back and forth until she started to giggle.

"Okay, okay," I heard her say. She said something about my shirt.

"If you dance with me," I laughed. She nodded and I peeled back and let her put my shirt back on. The song was almost over, but I managed to get her to jump with me during the last chorus. By the time we finished, she was laughing and giggling along with the rest of the girls. Another song started up - one I didn't recognize, but it had a good beat. I stepped towards Santana again and pulled her away, and we fell back into the crowd of people. As much fun as it was to dance with Tina and Quinn and Rachel, I really just wanted to dance with Santana.

_I know you're feeling restless, like life's not your side. It's weighting heavy on your mind. _

I wrapped my hands around her waist and forced her to move along with me. She seemed a lot less resistant now that we were surrounded by other people and away from the other girls.

_But when we stand united, our hearts, they beat in time. I know we'll make it all alright._

I felt her hands run up my waist and pull around my back. I stepped closer to her, all the while continuing to move to the beat of the song.

_Let's bring it back to you and me. There's no one else around. Now don't get lost in gravity-_

I turned around and pressed my back into her again. Her hands paused against my stomach, and I slid down slowly. She pulled her hands to my sides and let her fingers drag against me as I lowered and then slowly pushed back up. I was almost positive I heard her gasp. I smiled and wiggled my butt back, laughing when her hands gripped my waist to hold me still.

_'Cause I want you to hold. Me. Now. It's just the two of us and if it all falls down, nothing else matters. I know we're strong enough._

_I'm not giving up. I'm not giving up on us. I said I'm not giving up, I'm not giving up on love. _

I continued to rock against her, slower now, until she twisted me around. I felt her arms wrap around me and I sighed into her neck. I'd all but stopped moving completely because of her embrace. I felt her lips move against my neck, but I didn't hear what she said. I tried to pull back so I could ask her what she said, but she tightened her grip on me. She started swaying back and forth, a little off tempo, but I hardly noticed. I let my hands roam up and down her back now that we were so close. The song ended and another one started, but she was still clinging to me. I didn't think I wanted to dance any more, I just wanted to hold her.

"Santana?" I called. I felt her hum a response.

"I think you dance just fine," I said, and her body shook with laughter against mine. It made me feel good that she was comfortable again. I laughed too. She finally pulled away from me, and I caught her hand so she didn't stray too far. I caught her gaze and we held it for a second before she looked away shyly. She pulled me back into another song, this one was up beat, and we started bobbing along with it.

* * *

><p>"Santanaaa," I murmured. I felt her grip on me slip, and I quickly clasped my hands together behind her back. She giggled as she nearly tripped.<p>

"She's got a vice-grip on you," Rachel giggled. Santana pulled me up and I snuggled into her.

"I'm just glad we found her pants," Santana cringed. I didn't remember misplacing my pants. I looked down and saw my legs were bare. I guess that's why I was so cold. I giggled into Santana again. She was warm.

"Too bad she won't let us put them on her," Quinn sighed. I saw her toss my pants over her shoulder as she walked up the steps. "I'm going to bed - you two take care of her."

"I'm not dealing with any more clothes removal," Rachel said, holding her hands up defensively as she took a backwards step to the base of the stairs. She stumbled and caught the railing. Quinn sighed and walked back down and helped Rachel to her feet.

"Well, I guess I'll take care of her," Quinn sighed. "Honestly, I'm surprised you and I are the sober ones, Santana."

"I didn't want to miss seeing Brittany drunk," Santana grinned.

"I'm not drunk," I said, inching my hands up her spine to try and pull myself upright. I was determined to prove I wasn't drunk and I didn't need her help. But her hands tightened again and held me still.

"Of course you're not, sweetie," Santana laughed. "Do you want some water? Clothes, perhaps?"

"I'm fine," I giggled. Quinn had disappeared up the stairs, and we heard Rachel start shouting. I think she was trying to sing, but it just sounded like yelling.

"Do you want me to help you up to your room?" Santana asked. "Because we can eat something if you want. I don't think you've had anything but alcohol for the last few hours."

"I'm sleepy," I protested.

"Okay." I felt her pull me up and we stumbled to the stairs.

"Can I sleep with you?" I asked. She hesitated. I knew it was because of this morning.

"We don't have to- I don't want you to be upset again-"

"I wasn't upset," she said, pulling away. She still had her arm wrapped around my waist, but if I twisted, I could see her face.

"You were hiding behind Jeremy!"

"Britt, I just didn't expect to see you practically naked first thing after waking up," Santana said. She averted her eyes. "But I think I'm beginning to see that that's just a thing with you."

"Why should I be embarrassed? Why should you?" I tried to straighten up. I felt like this was a serious conversation, but my brain was too fuzzy to sound like it.

"You shouldn't," Santana nodded. "I was just being silly. Come on. One foot in front of the other. No, Brittany, to the stairs."

We spent another five or so minutes trying to get upstairs, but it was hard. I kept tripping. Santana admitted that the bruise on her knee was from a stair-related incident, and that she was glad she was there to prevent me from suffering a similar fate. She pulled me into her room, although I protested, saying that I wanted to sleep with Jeremy and Lord Tubbington. She told me that I had to choose between Lord Tubbington and her, because there was no way she was letting him sleep in her room. I agreed to do so, but insisted she get Jeremy.

"You're absolutely ridiculous," she said. I was curled up under her covers, hugging Jeremy tightly in my arms. She leaned forward and tugged on Jeremy's unicorn horn. I loosened my hold on him and then pushed him forward, pressing his face against her cheek.

"What was that for?" Santana asked, her brow furrowing.

"It was a thank you kiss for letting us sleep in your room," I yawned. She laughed as she kicked her feet under the blanket. She wiggled towards me until we were super close. So close that I could feel her breath on my nose.

"And what about you?" she asked. She had a half-smirk on her face, and I felt my cheeks burn.

"His kiss was from both of us," I whispered. She giggled and then leaned forward and gave me a soft kiss on the forehead.

"Well, you're welcome," she smiled. I pulled my hand away from Jeremy and fished around for hers. I found her pinkie and gripped it with mine.

"Why do we do that?" I asked. She inched back as I rose our hands.

"Do what?"

"This," I said, waggling our hands back and forth.

"I don't know," she laughed.

"Okay," I nodded. I inched closer to her, and she lifted her chin as I tucked my head under hers. "I'm glad I moved in, Santana."

"Yeah?"

"Mm," I nodded. She slipped her pinkie out of mine and wrapped her arm around me. I felt Jeremy squish a bit between us.

"Me too, Britt."

**_Author's Note:_**

**_Songs are (just add youtube before):_**

**_The Downtown Fiction - I Just Wanna Run - **_.com/watch?v=agrZLBaD9cc_******_**

**_David Guetta - Where Dem Girls At? - **_.com/watch?v=p4kVWCSzfK4_******_**

**_Armin van Burren vs Ellis-Bextor - Not Giving Up On Love - **_.com/watch?v=xVtciD6LFX8_******_**

**_Sorry if this was later than anyone was expecting. I want to note that I have never seen an episode of Phineas and Ferb. I was going to have them watch Adventure Time, because I love that show, but Phineas and Ferb seems more of a Brittany-show to watch. Also, I don't know anything about drinking - Midori Sours are the only drink I know by name, other than like... Jack Daniels and Coke. Hit me up if you have song suggestions for hip-hop classes. That's kind of important. _**

**_...I wonder how Brittany lost her pants. ;) Ideas? - HB_**


	12. I'll Teach You to Dance

_Santana pulled me in closer, and I felt myself giggling into her neck. My hands were wrapped around her neck and hers were on my waist, but neither of us were keeping our hands still for long. The bass to the music was so loud, I could feel it thumping in my chest. Or was that just my heart? I felt out of control of my body, but at the same time, very aware that I was so close to her._

_Santana didn't protest when I swayed into her. I couldn't help it. I was drawn to her like a magnet. My head was fuzzy, but I knew the moment I did it that I made a bad decision. My hips had just started moving on their own, and suddenly I was grinding up against her. I think she pulled away, but I dug my hands into her back. I didn't want her to run away again. She surprised me by pressing up against me, and I heard her inhale sharply into my ear. It made me giggle. Her hands scraped down my sides and suddenly I was the one to gasp. I wasn't laughing anymore. I felt my brow furrow. I had to concentrate. What were we doing? I was sure I was supposed to care. Something told me to pull away from Santana, but I wanted to hear that sound she'd made again. _

_My fingers dug into her shirt and I felt hers pinch at the bottom of my shirt. I rolled into her, and her lips accidentally grazed my neck. I felt my breathing flutter. _

"Britt." I tensed at the sound of Santana's voice. It was louder than it had been a second ago. No, the room was quieter and I realized my eyes were shut. I opened them and was immediately greeted by hers. I was close to her, and she had her hand resting on my shoulder. She must have tried to gently shake me awake.

Awake. I must have been dreaming before. I blinked several times, trying to figure out what was going on. What had been a dream and what hadn't.

"Hey," she said softly. It shook me out of my daze.

"Mm?" was all I could respond with. She pulled her hand away from my arm and brushed it against my cheek.

"You were squirming around," Santana giggled. "Having a nightmare?"

"No," I shook my head, but then hesitated. It definitely _wasn't_ a nightmare. I sat up quickly, I think to both of our surprise, because Santana inched back and I felt myself grow dizzy at the jerky movement. She sat up and caught me before I toppled off the bed.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Hafta pee," I mumbled. I struggled to untangle myself from the covers. Her hand whisked past mine as she stretched out to catch it, but I was already stumbling out the door. I was glad she didn't follow me. I mean, I really did have to pee, but I also needed to get my head situated. As I closed the door to the bathroom, I realized I wasn't wearing any pants. That made my head more confused. I sat down on the toilet to pee and hung my head in my hands.

I couldn't remember how I got home. I remembered Santana giving me drinks at the bar. And how she winked at me when I tied a cherry stem into a knot. That was it. No, I remembered dancing. I didn't remember how we got to the club, but I distinctly remembered Santana pushing me away while we were dancing. I pinched the bridge of my nose. There was more to that. She had my shirt in her hands. Why wasn't I wearing a shirt?

I looked down to inspect myself. I was wearing my shirt, it were my pants that were missing. Had Santana removed those? My heart started pounding heavily against my chest, and I realized I had stopped breathing. I took a huge gasp of breath and tried to remember to breath while I thought. I was over thinking all of this. No, I was panicking. I didn't even know why - all I had to do was ask Santana what happened. I think I was just concerned because I was sure that the dream I had didn't really happen. The way Santana had run her hands under my shirt and scratched her nails against my stomach. I caught another gasp in my throat and it almost sounded like a hiccup.

Why was I so flustered? I like dancing like that. I like even more when people will dance with me like that. A knock at the door broke me from my thoughts.

"Hey, B?" I heard Santana call just above a whisper. "You didn't fall in, did you?"

"No," I squeaked. I didn't know how long I'd been sitting on the toilet, but I felt really silly. I rose to wash my hands after I flushed the toilet and I heard the door handle jiggle slowly. A second later, Santana poked her head inside.

"You're not feeling sick, are you?" she asked. Now that she mentioned it, I did feel a little ill. She pushed her way in and wrapped her arm around my shoulder.

"Come on, let's get you back in bed. I'll get you some water, okay?"

I nodded and let her lead me back to her room. While she disappeared to the kitchen, I picked up Jeremy and hugged him to my chest. I figured out why I was so nervous. It wasn't that I couldn't remember most of the night. It wasn't even that I had danced in such a raunchy manner with Santana. It was the fact that it was _Santana_ I danced with, and not just that. I wanted to do more than dance with her. Everything about her was so mesmerizing. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Whatever it was that was pulling me towards her, it was stronger than anything I'd ever felt before. I just had this feeling that if I could be as close to her as possible, maybe I could breathe properly again.

"Britt? You didn't fall back asleep, did you?"

I looked up and Santana was standing at the foot of the bed, holding a glass in one hand and a plate in the other. I sat up and pulled my knees to my chest so she could sit down, and she handed me the glass. Now that she was sitting, I saw she'd made a few peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. She'd even cut them into triangles.

Santana let me sip my glass of water and nibble on the sandwiches in silence. I think she figured I was too sleepy to say anything, and I suppose I was. She stole one of the triangles and curled up next to me. I dropped my hand to the plate when she started to scratch her fingers through my hair. I sighed and leaned back, and I felt her move. She took the plate and glass from my hands and set them above us on the shelves of her headrest, and then wrapped her arms around me.

"You should go back to sleep," Santana said. "If you have more nightmares, I'll wake you."

"I didn't have a nightmare," I murmured, snuggling into her arms. I should have been more nervous, but I was already convinced that this was alright. Santana had pulled me into her arms, not the the other way around.

"Mm? Yeah, what were you dreaming about?" she asked. The way she leaned forward caused her breath to tickle my ear and I couldn't help but giggle.

"Dancing," I said. It wasn't lying.

"Is that all you think about?"

"No," I shook my head, but stopped once it started to hurt. "Hey, Santana?"

"Yeah?"

"What happened to my pants?" I asked. I turned a little to look at her. She smiled and wiggled her hands over mine, linking our pinkies.

"You spilt Rachel's drink all over yourself," Santana said. The way she spoke in a low whisper was intoxicating. I rolled my head back and pressed it against her collarbone.

"I did?" I asked sleepily.

"Yeah... you almost took them off right in the middle of the dance floor."

"I do that sometimes," I mumbled. I wanted to mention that I was positive I had help taking them off. I didn't think drunken me would have managed to squirm out of my skinny jeans. In fact, that was part of the reason I wore them.

"I really don't know how you lost them," Santana sighed. "I'd even gotten you to sit down to so we could get you cleaned up."

"Oh... did you guys find them? Those are my favorites," I said, sitting up a little. So I hadn't imagined it. Santana had helped me out of my pants. I just misinterpreted how it happened. She pressed her hand down on my stomach to still me.

"Don't worry, Quinn found them," she giggled. "Anything else you want to know?"

I paused. Looking down at our hands, I knew exactly what I wanted to ask. The way we were curled up in Santana's bed, now, and how we'd been curled up on the couch watching cartoons before. I was positive I couldn't do things like that with Quinn and Rachel unless I was drinking, and I wouldn't have wanted to if even it were okay. I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it again. I remembered how Santana had acted strangely this morning when she accidentally wittnessed me changing. It took almost all day to get her to recover - I didn't want to say something weird that would make her so uncomfortable she would make me get out of her bed.

"Did you have fun?" I asked.

"Of course. I haven't been able to convince Quinn and Rachel to go out clubbing with me in forever," Santana laughed. She gave me a tight squeeze. "And I had a lot of fun dancing with you."

"I thought you said you couldn't dance," I yawned.

"Mm, I dance better drunk," she laughed. I felt myself nodding off. I twisted a bit and leaned against her. Maybe if I didn't say anything, Santana wouldn't worry and she would let me keep sleeping in her bed with her.

* * *

><p>"Brittany, do I have to come in early to remind you every week that I have a class?" Mike shut off my music, and I stopped short. I was glad, because I was feeling really sluggish today with my hangover. I had missed several steps and made a ton of mistakes in my routine. I didn't know how I got tied up in dancing and forgot the time, though, especially when I was doing so bad. I had a lot of things on my mind, I guess.<p>

"Step off," I said jokingly, waving my hand at him as I kicked back. "I told you, this is my turf."

"Not after 3pm, it's not," he smiled. "Dance off?"

"Not today," I shook my head. "You're lucky I'm feeling generous today."

"Or just suffering from a hangover," a voice said. I looked up and smiled timidly as Santana walked over. "Are you always here before Mike's class?"

"Yeah," I nodded, leaning down and grabbing my water bottle. It was empty. I felt myself shuffle nervously in her presence. Ever since this morning and my realization about how much I liked being around Santana, I felt like I didn't know how to act when I was actually with her. "I like to practice here for my solo repertory class."

"I don't know what that means," Santana admitted. Mike called for the class to line up and she gave me a light tap on the shoulder and a wink before spinning away. I felt my mouth spread into a goofy grin. Maybe I was stressing out too much. I just needed to be myself, and Santana would be herself.

"Pierce!" Someone else called me. I looked up and saw Tina standing at the opposite of end of the room, in the entranceway. I didn't know why, but the expression she wore frightened me a bit. I stole a glance back at Santana as she lined up next to Quinn; she playfully shoved the blonde sideways.

"Brittany," Tina said, catching my attention again. I staggered over and passed her to go to the water fountain. She fell in step with me and leaned against the wall.

"We need to talk," she said. My hand froze on the button that turned on the water. I looked up at her, wide-eyed. There were a select few times someone had told me 'we need to talk', and usually it was my mom approaching me for lying about a bad grade or something similar.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked. I finished filling my water bottle and then pulled back to take a sip. I kept my eyes locked with hers, waiting for a response, but she shook her head and looked away. A lot of people did that when I stared at them.

"No, look," Tina said, pushing away from the wall. I noticed now that she wasn't wearing dance clothes. Had she come here specifically to talk to me?

"You're really sweet, Brittany," Tina said reassuringly. She glanced back at the dance classroom and I followed her gaze to where Santana was. She paused long enough for me to expect the 'but.'

"But Santana is one of my best friends," Tina said. She crossed her arms and took a step towards me. I instinctively took a step back.

"And I know everyone likes you - heck, I like you - but if you do anything to hurt her, you're going to have to answer to me and Quinn and Rachel."

Tina was shorter than me and she didn't have a very good mean expression. I had a feeling she didn't have a bad bone in her body. But the way she stepped towards me again and her tone of voice had the effect on me like a giant stray dog would on Lord Tubbington. I nodded slowly and she backed off.

"Glad we have an understanding," Tina said with a small huff and then turned to walk away.

"But we don't," I said in a hushed whisper. I was afraid she hadn't heard me, but also terrified she had. She froze and spun back around. I expected her to be angry, but she just looked confused.

"...did I do something wrong?" I asked again. I think Tina finally noticed how scared I was of her. Her expression softened, and she gasped.

"No, no, gosh," she laughed. She placed her hand on my shoulder. "No, Brittany, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry, we're just a little protective over Santana."

"We?" I asked.

"Quinn, Rachel, and I," she nodded. "You've probably noticed everyone acts like she's a bomb about to go off - but that's not it. I mean, yes, we would rather avoid her wrath, but...

"Santana was really popular in High School," Tina explained. "She was used to all the perks of the boys and the attention, until she realized that being popular and having people be afraid of you in the hallways didn't give her many options for friends. Hell, Quinn and Santana started off hating each other."

I shifted uncomfortably. I wanted to know more about Santana's high school experience. I knew from how she acted with Quinn and Rachel that she could be a little mean sometimes, but it mostly came across as playful. People weren't naturally mean like the way Tina implied Santana used to be, so there must have been a reason for why Santana was the way she was.

"She lost all of that with the end high school, and with it, a lot of confidence," Tina sighed. "She might seem fine to you, but she doesn't have a whole lot of friends. I don't even think she talks to people in her classes. But you came along, and suddenly there is this spark of life in her. Did you know she didn't get drunk last night? That's the first time in ages we've seen her drink and not go overboard."

I shook my head lightly. Even though Tina was saying a lot, I still wasn't sure why she had threatened me.

"What I'm trying to say is, whatever your relationship is with her is making her pull out of this sloth-like coma she's been in for years. But don't start something you can't finish. Nothing is worse than you swooping in and offering her hope only to snatch it away."

"...all I want to do is be her friend," I said quietly. I looked down at the ground. Tina made me out to sound like a bad guy with ulterior motives. But I don't think she realized just how much her words stung. I felt suddenly a lot more similar to Santana than before. I had been envious of Santana and the group of friends she had - I'd never had such close friends in High School, and the only best friend I'd ever had was Jenna. They had accepted me with such open arms, I had been confused why. And now I knew - they accepted me because Santana did.

I stood up a little straighter. I wasn't going to let what Tina said stop me from being Santana's friend. I wasn't going to let it stop me being any of their friend either, including her. Tina was testing me, challenging my integrity, and I wasn't going to back down.

"I'm not going to abandon her. I know that it sounds silly. I haven't even known her a whole week," I admitted. "But I'm not going to let you tell me I'm not good enough to be her friend."

Tina shifted her footing and smiled at me.

"That's good to hear," Tina nodded. "I was just checking - Santana can be kind of a handful."

"I don't think she is," I shrugged. I started walking back to the classroom and Tina followed beside me. I found Santana again, and she smiled at me in the mirror. I felt bad for distracting her, because she stumbled into Quinn. "I think being Santana's friend is the easiest thing in the world."

"Mm," Tina nodded. I looked back at her and she just smiled at me like I'd said something very interesting.

"What?"

"Nothing," Tina shook her head. "I just dropped by to wait for Mike for dinner. You guys are welcome to join us. You haven't had a lot of opportunities to hang out with Mike, right?"

"Yeah, I keep asking him to go out for drinks," I shrugged. "But he keeps declining because..."

"He has a girlfriend?" Tina rose her brow. I smiled sheepishly.

"I wasn't hitting on him," I laughed.

"First you steal my best friend, and now you're trying to get with my man," Tina shook her head.

When Mike called for a break, Tina left to go talk to him. She stopped Quinn and Rachel on her way over to him. They chatted excitedly for a second, and I knew Tina was inviting them to dinner. Santana came over to me and sat down, looking exhausted.

"I don't know how you do this every day," she sighed. I held out my hand and offered my water bottle to her. She took it and drank several gulps without a seconds pause. I laughed and she nudged me with her elbow.

"Don't tease me, you've been doing this forever," she grunted.

"Then that's how I do this every day," I said.

"True," she nodded. "Ugh, but I suck so bad."

"Yeah, you kind of do," I shrugged. "Who knew alcohol made such a difference."

She opened her mouth wide in a gasp and smacked my arm playfully.

"How dare you," she growled.

"Hmm, seems like either you have to stop drinking and work harder on your dancing, or you just have to be drunk all the time," I smiled. She rolled her eyes at me, but I could tell she couldn't fight the smile off her face. She stood up.

"Fine, maybe I will."

"Will what? There's not a liquor store around here," I replied and joined her on my feet.

"Work harder, you ass," she frowned.

"Do you want some help?" I gave another light shrug. "I'm kind of a big deal around here."

"Someone has a huge ego, and for once it isn't me," Santana rolled her eyes. Mike called them to line up again.

"The offer is going once... going twice-" I rose my hand up and started to hold up my fingers as I spoke.

"Fine, yes, please help! Teach me to dance!" she giggled, clasping her hand over mine. I grinned brightly. She let go of my hand and reluctantly returned to her space on the dance floor. The rest of the class, I kept watching her movements. Mostly to keep track of the dance steps she was learning and which ones she needed help with. But also because I just wanted to watch her. She noticed. Every time I caught her gaze in the mirror, she would miss a step, resulting in a few crashes with Rachel or Quinn. I think by the end of the night, they were furious at her.

Tina and Mike told us where the restaurant was for dinner and told us to meet them there in an hour. It was only a few blocks away from the studio, but Rachel and Quinn were insistent on going home to change first. Santana lingered behind - I guess she wanted to take me up on my offer to help her dance immediately while it was still fresh in her mind what the dance itself was.

"We'll catch up," I waved to Quinn and Rachel as they left. I hustled over to the speakers and plugged in my iPod and started scrolling through it for the song Mike had used. We had a universal playlist that the studio had us download, which was good, because I wasn't sure I would have owned the songs he sometimes played. Santana came up behind me while I was searching for the song and grabbed my shoulders. She swayed back and forth and forced me to move with her.

"What were you talking about with Tina?" she asked, leaning closer to me. I was glad there weren't mirrors in the back of the room, because my eyes widened and I felt my cheeks flush.

"Just some stuff. Getting to know each other better - it's hard to have a conversation at a club," I shrugged. I felt bad for lying, but I didn't want Santana to know we'd been talking about her. "Not like I would have remembered much from last night anyway."

I found the song and tapped it on. I took a few steps to the front of the room, grabbing Santana's hand and pulling her along with me. When we were in front of the mirrors, I let go and stood at her side.

"So we start off with a step like this," I said, imitating Mike's movements from their lesson. I went over the dance steps for a second and confirmed with her what they were. She corrected me a few times, because I hadn't been paying attention at the beginning of their class. Once I got the routine down, I walked back to my iPod and restarted the song.

We went over the movements a few times. I kept insisting Santana try to be more fluid in her movements, but she just kept getting more and more rigid the more times we went over the material. I stopped abruptly when she stumbled again with this frustrated expression on her face. I turned off the song and came up to her from behind.

"You're focusing too much on your mistakes," I said, matching my footing to hers and grabbing her hands and holding them out at our sides. She looked down at the ground to avoid my gaze in the mirror.

"Don't be embarrassed," I laughed. "If you're confident in your movements, no one will notice if you mess up."

"You will," she said in a hushed voice. I laughed again and shook my head.

"But why should I care? I like improv anyway. Okay, how about this," I said, shuffling a little closer. "You just close your eyes, okay? I'll guide you along. We'll do it half time until you get the movements down."

"O-okay," she nodded. She hesitated a moment longer before finally closing her eyes. I smiled and started to count out loud. She was nervous. I could feel it as she resisted the pull of my hands the first time running through the song that way.

"Keep rockin', and keep knockin'," I managed to giggle out the second time we started the song through. "Whether you Louis Vuitton-ed up or Reebok-in'."

She stumbled, but this time because she was laughing. I helped her recover from the step and reminded her to keep her eyes closed.

"-so what we gon' have? Dessert or disaster?" I said, continuing to pull her along.

"I never thought I'd... be in love like this," Santana sang. It was quieter than she normally sang, and it sounded shy. "When I look at you my mind goes on a trip. And you came in... and knocked me on my face. Feels like I'm in a race, but I... already won first place."

I don't think either of us could keep singing the song, we started laughing too much. She doubled over and pulled me forward onto her back. I hugged her as she opened her eyes and then pulled her back and around in a circle. I untangled myself from her as I twirled away to stumble to my iPod.

"One more time, okay? That was a lot better," I said, clicking on the play button before wheeling back around. I grabbed her hands from behind again and started to sway back and forth to the beat. She giggled, staring at me in the mirror. She let me lead her to the beat, and after a few shaky steps in to adjust to the faster tempo, she finally loosened up. Mid-way through the song, I was able to let go of her hands and shadow her a few steps back. She made a few mistakes, but took them in stride, not letting them stop her from finishing the song. When we did finish, she jumped up and gave me a huge hug.

"That was great!" she laughed. Her arms hung around my neck and I had to wrap my arms around her to keep myself steady from the weight she pressed into me.

"So much improvement," I laughed. "Your instructor must be pretty awesome."

"Now you're just fishing for compliments," she said. My grin grew a little wider. I noticed her eyes flicker away from my eyes, and I was curious for a second where she looked, but then she pushed away from me.

"Okay, so we got that down," she said, placing a hand on her hips as she checked her wrist for the time. She shook her head when she noticed she wasn't wearing a watch and then looked around the room for the clock. It was that annoying analog one I couldn't read.

"We still have like, twenty minutes," she said after a quick glance. I envied her for being able to determine that so quickly.

"We can go over the dance again?" I suggested.

"No, no," Santana waved her hand and took a step back. "I'm exhausted."

"Yeah, you look a little weary," I nodded.

"What was it you were doing before our class started?"

"Oh, that was ...some solo work I was doing for one of my classes," I said. "I can show you?"

"Sure, go for it," Santana waved her hand out in front of her as she took several more steps back. I rushed over to my iPod again and switched songs. It was one by Ke$ha - I knew my professor probably wouldn't like the lyrics, but I loved it.

_ I don't need you or your brand new Benz. Or your bougie friends. I don't need love looking like diamonds. Looking like diamonds._

I stepped forward as the song started and grinned slyly at Santana as I stepped into place. I winked flirtatiously before I could even stop myself. Her expression fell, and I think I embarrassed her. I didn't have time to consider her reaction, though, because the beat kicked in and I started to dance.

_Okay I'm young and I'm tatted. I get them bucks like an addict, rockin' this Christian Dior, I spend so much on my fabric. I got a wifey at home and what she wants she can have it. And she in love with my stick, she say I work it like magic. Okay now no need to panic, I'm on a beach where the sand is-_

I started to pop my shoulders back and forth. I knew that the song was provocative, and my choreography reflected that. It didn't take long for me to forget Santana was watching as I moved. The music was just invigorating. Practicing dancing with Santana had helped me just as much as it had helped her. I wasn't feeling the effects of my hangover as badly anymore, and it felt easier to keep to the beat.

_Rat tat tat tat on your dumb dumb drum. The beats so fat gonna make me come um, um, um, um... over to your place._

I flicked my head back and ran my hand through my hair. I saw her looking at me in the mirror. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open a little. I don't know why that made me smile. I even scrunched my nose a little as I caught her stare. Unlike when I would catch her gaze while she was dancing, I didn't stumble. In fact, I grew more confident.

When the song ended, I stood in place. My chest was heaving up and down, and I was pretty sure it wasn't just from dancing. My lips curled into another smile when I found her again in the mirror. She looked frozen. I pushed my hair out of my face and turned towards her. In that time, she seemed to have recovered and stood up to meet me halfway across the dance floor.

"Um... wow," she laughed. "You're a hot mess."

"Thanks," I managed to say while trying to catch my breath. I was thankful it hadn't come out as a croak. It actually sounded kind of hot. I couldn't help but think I was right when she shifted uncomfortably. She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it. Her hand trailed up and flicked my long bangs to the side of my face. She wouldn't look me directly in the eye, but instead of making me feel sad, it made me move forward and inch closer to her.

"What are you doing?" she whispered. I realized my hand was on her side. I almost withdrew, but then I heard the song from my iPod grow a little louder.

_Take my hand. I'll teach you to dance. I'll spin you around. Won't let you fall down. _

I grinned at my luck. I pulled her closer and swayed back and forth before stepping back to twirl her around. She giggled when I tugged her back and caught her.

_Would you let me lead? You can step on my feet. Give it a try. It'll be alright._

I slipped my hand into hers and held her close again. I nodded at her and shuffled my feet to the tip of her toes, and she cautiously stepped on them. I lifted my feet along to the steps of a dance I didn't need to practice to know, and with her feet on top of mine, she followed along easily.

_The room's hush hush and now's our moment. Take it in, feel it all and hold it. Eyes on you, eyes on me. We're doing this right._

I felt my heart swell in my chest. I was so glad she was dancing with me. She was gazing at me, and I expected her to giggle or laugh to make this less nerve-wracking for both of us, but she just had a small smile on her lips. Occasionally, she broke eye contact with me to look down, but I would squeeze her hand to reassure her that it was okay even if we messed up.

_'Cause lovers dance when they're feeling in love. Spotlight's shining, it's all about us. It's oh, oh, all about uh, uh, us. And every heart in the room will melt. This is a feeling I've never felt, but it's oh-all about us._

We started to slow down, mostly because I couldn't keep shuffling around. I felt my chest tighten and I was starting to feel light-headed. Santana had stepped off my feet and now we were just rocking back and forth, taking a small step every few beats. I think she realized I was having trouble breathing. Her hand slipped from mine and rose up. She traced her fingers delicately on my collarbone and her palm pressed against my chest. I think she was feeling my heart beat. I knew even if she wasn't, she'd feel it anyway. We stopped moving all together as I stared into her eyes.

I wanted to say something. I even opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I wanted to apologize if I was making her uncomfortable, but even more, I wanted to ask her if she was feeling just as frightened as I was.

Her hand slipped away from my chest and upwards to cup my chin. I wasn't sure why she moved her hand until she gently pulled me forward. She leaned in and pressed her lips against mine.

**_Author's Note: _**

**_These are the songs:_**

**_Knock You Down (feat. Kanye West & Ne-Yo) - Keri Hilson -_****_ .com/watch?v=p_RqWocthcc&ob=av3e_**

**_Sleazy Remix 2.0 - Get Sleazier (feat. Lil Wayne, Wiz Khalifa, T.I. & Andre 3000) -_****_ .com/watch?v=QrEXpLrYYKU_**

**_All About Us (feat. Owl City) - He Is We -_****_ .com/watch?v=R7Gf2SOmz5Q&ob=av2e_**

**_Thank you for being patient - I think I finally got around to explaining the story's title. Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger. But it's a good cliffhanger, right?_**

**_I'm apologizing in advanced - I think I'll be able to write and post Chapter 13 in the next day or so, but unfortunately I am going to have to take a break from writing so much. I have a paper and a drawing to make before Monday as well as a party to attend this weekend. I'll do my best not to leave you on this cliffhanger too long by working really hard on the next chapter. _**

**_P.S. - To Pop, since I can't message you directly. I definitely understand what you're saying about showing more insight on Brittany's feelings over just her observations. I don't know if it came across well in this chapter or not what Brittany's feelings are. I'm definitely going to work on that for the chapters to come. My justification for leaving her feelings ambiguous isn't particularly strong - I just think she's the sort of person that won't let her thoughts get in the way of her actions. Well, maybe. I don't know. It's more complex than I think I know how to explain. But thank you for the advice - I will keep that in mind when I write the next chapter. :)_**


	13. It'll Be Alright

Santana's lips were so soft and so gentle against mine. She hadn't moved. She just held them against mine and waited. At first, I froze. It came as such a pleasant surprise, I still had my eyes open. They fluttered closed and I leaned in a little, pressing our lips harder together. I inhaled through my nose, refusing to break the contact. Her other hand rose up to grab the other side of my face. My one hand was still wrapped around her waist, and I dragged the hand she had dropped up to her side. She pulled away, just for a second to breath, but I couldn't handle that. I pulled her back into me, and she giggled into my kiss.

We stood like that a while. Just her lips on mine. She would occasionally change the kiss. I liked it so much. It was better than holding her pinkie or cuddling in her bed. It was even better than dancing.

Santana's cell phone started ringing from across the room. It took me a moment to realize what the sound was, but it clashed against the music from my iPod so much that I couldn't ignore it. Santana froze against me for a second and then pulled away. I opened my eyes to catch her turn away quickly and rush over to her phone. I wasn't sure what her reaction was to our kissing. The happy feeling that was swelling in my chest immediately fell when she answered the phone.

"Tina?" she said, bringing the phone to her ear. She looked a little flustered and her voice came out a little raspy. "Sorry, we lost track of time-" She glanced up at me and her eyes widened before she turned away again. She was definitely embarrassed. I knew_ I_ felt queasy.

Tina had _just_ told me how delicate Santana was about friendships. What on earth was I doing? I had told Tina all I wanted was to be Santana's friend. I turned away as Santana spoke on the phone, too engrossed in my own thoughts to pay attention to what she was saying. I brought my hand up to my temple, rubbing my fingers against the side of my forehead before pushing it through my hair.

"-okay, we're leaving now," Santana said. She had passed me already, holding her belongings in her arms. She was still avoiding my gaze - it made me feel like I'd been kicked in the stomach. She was closing up again like she had when I'd been undressing. I was certain of it.

"It will take us like, five minutes, tops," Santana sighed. She glanced quickly back at me, but the moment she caught my eyes, she looked away again. She held the door open for me by pressing against it with her elbow and I quickly skittered out. Once she was out, I fumbled with my keys to lock the doors of the studio. By the time I finished, she was off the phone, standing quietly with some space between us, just waiting.

The five minutes it took us to get the restaurant was excruciatingly painful. Santana kept her distance from me and didn't say a word. I kept my eyes trained to the ground after I acknowledged she wasn't going to look at me. I think she was deep in thought and that maybe I was distracting her thoughts by looking at her. I knew my own thoughts were jumbled. I had so few close friends before and none ever like Santana. I tried to imagine being closer to Quinn or Rachel, and I couldn't imagine that we'd make pancakes and steal blueberries or hold pinkies or snuggle up with each other. I definitely couldn't see kissing either of them.

The idea - no, the act of kissing Santana left me speechless. I had so many things I wanted to say and ask, but I couldn't find the words to say them. I was afraid that by asking Santana any questions that she would stop letting me be close to her. It made it a million times worse knowing that I didn't know how to hide any of this in front of Tina.

"I think this is the place," Santana finally spoke. Her voice sounded distant. She didn't sound cold or mean or angry, just... like she was in another place. Maybe even a little tired. I looked up at the building we had stopped in front of and noticed a menu in the window. I looked back at her and she glanced at me, finally. She opened her mouth slightly, and I thought she was going to say something, but instead she just took a deep breath. In that moment, I think we made an unspoken agreement to try and act naturally, because a second later, she had a calm smile on her face and she pushed through the door.

"You guys took forever," Tina said, scooting further into Mike to give us space to squeeze into the circular booth. Santana sat down first and then nodded for me to squish next to her. Everyone had already ordered drinks and Quinn and Rachel were still looking over the menu for their food orders. Being in the presence of everyone else should have made me more nervous, but I think the stress of being alone with Santana was worse. I felt a little relieved, actually.

I quickly mimicked Santana and looked over the menu, trying my best to locate the drinks. I peeked over at hers to find which page it was on and then started to skim through the endless list of alcoholic beverages. I never knew what to order. I got to the bottom and let out an excited yelp.

"They have milkshakes!" I said. Everyone looked up at me, and I suddenly felt a little silly.

"Oh, they do. That sounds delicious," Santana said, as if she'd just noticed. I was sure I was the only one that was caught by surprise by them. She looked up at me and smiled. I felt a million times better because of it. Not only because of our uncomfortable walk over, but also because she made just now less awkward.

"You're going to get a milkshake, Santana?" Rachel asked. She was sitting directly across from Santana, next to Mike.

"Maybe, I don't know," Santana hummed. I noticed Rachel looked surprised, and glancing around, everyone else wore the same expression.

"What are you getting, Britt?" Santana asked, leaning over to look at my menu. I don't know why she did, because she had hers open in her hands. I felt a little shy at her closeness. I quickly pointed to the first thing I could on the menu, and she nodded.

"Cookies and cream?" Santana shrugged and closed her menu. "I'll get strawberry, then. Lemme try yours?"

"Okay," I nodded. Now that she had made her decision, everyone else seemed to sit back a little.

"That's a first," I heard Quinn mumble. I don't know why everyone was so interested in what Santana and I were ordering to drink, but I felt a little uncomfortable. Santana didn't even seem to notice. Or maybe she just didn't care.

We placed our orders - I ordered a hamburger with fries. Quinn laughed at me, and when Santana asked what was so funny, I told her not to listen to Quinn. Milkshakes and french fries were awesome. Tina and Rachel grimaced, but Mike seemed to think it sounded appealing. I couldn't read Santana's reaction. Tina asked how classes were going for all of us, and we took turns talking mostly about how none of us wanted to go to class, tomorrow, on Monday. I was in the middle of explaining what my dance composition class was about when our food arrived.

"Alright, fork over the milkshake and fries," Mike said, stretching across the table to steal one from my plate. I laughed and tilted my shake forward for him and he scooped up a decent amount onto the fry. He shoved it in Tina's face a second before she swatted at him and then ate the fry whole.

"That's awesome," he grinned. I smiled and nodded my head.

"Right? Like waffles!"

"Yeah, that's exactly it!" he said, pointing at me. Santana nudged me and I looked over.

"Really?" she asked. I scooted my plate closer to her.

"Try one," I insisted. She smiled sheepishly and glanced at the other girls, who just grimaced in disgust. She straightened a bit and then took a fry and slowly dipped it into my milkshake. My grin widened as she took a small bite and I held my breath for her reaction.

"Oh, what the hell?" she said, almost coughing as she grinned. "That does taste like a fucking waffle. Did you try this, Quinn? How did you not like it?"

"Because it's a French fry," Quinn said, pointing to my plate. "Not a damn waffle."

"Whatever, this is great," Santana said, stealing another fry and dipping it into her own milkshake before turning back to her own plate. She had ordered pasta. When she picked up her fork, my brow furrowed.

"You're left handed," I said abruptly. She froze and looked up at me.

"Yeah, I am," she shrugged.

"How did I not notice that sooner?" After I spoke, I realized everyone was looking at me curiously again. I needed to finish that thought. "I mean, normally if you're left handed, you lead with your left foot, too."

"Oh," Santana said, sitting back a little. "I'm a little ambidextrous. When your parents find out you're a lefty, they try really hard to get you curbed into being a righty. Besides, I was just following Chang's dance routine."

"Speaking of the routine, how did your practice session go?" Mike asked. I started to tell Mike how Santana was just nervous and needed to relax more when she danced. I teased Santana again and said that maybe she should be drinking, and she scowled.

"So, you're not drinking to prove a point?" Tina asked with a light chuckle. "Stubborn as always, but glad to see it being constructive for you for once."

"Shut up, Tina," Santana grumbled and shoved a fork full of noodles into her mouth. "Tell 'em 'bout yo' dance." She nudged me with her elbow and gulped down her food. "She's a beast. Mike, I think she can out dance you."

"I didn't think that was possible," Rachel said in astonishment. I smiled sheepishly and nibbled on a French fry.

"I suppose I have to accept this dance off challenge eventually, won't I?"

"Damn straight, Pierce," Mike said, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back. He gave me a wink to show that he was joking. "So you guys spent an hour going over two songs?"

I paused, holding my milkshake in the air and my tongue extended to fish for the straw. Suddenly, Santana's right hand was on my left one under the table, and she gave it an anxious squeeze. I slurped my tongue back into my mouth in surprise.

"Um, you underestimate how many times we had to go over your dance routine, Mike," I said and everyone laughed, including Santana. She pulled her hand away, but immediately wiggled her pinkie to lock around mine. I squeezed it gently back.

"We were in the middle of my routine when Tina called," I lied.

"It's too bad you interrupted," Santana agreed. "Girl's got moves."

Tina rose her brow at Santana's statement. I noticed she was the only one to do so.

"You know my hips don't lie and I'm starting to feel it's right," I said in a sing-song voice. Santana was staring at me with a strange look, but Tina's laughing drew us all away from my awkward attempt at playful banter.

"Oh god, not you too?" Tina shook her head.

"I thought that's what you guys did. Wait, did you trick me into rooming with you guys? I thought you liked breaking into song!" This time everyone laughed.

* * *

><p>"Honey honey, let me feel it, ah-hah, honey honey!" Rachel was singing, at the front of our group. Mike and Tina were walking arm and arm just behind Quinn as she tried to make sure the brunette singer didn't stumble off the sidewalk.<p>

"Rach, stop," Quinn said, placing her hands gently on Rachel's back and steering her forward.

"Honey honey, don't conceal it, ah-hah, honey honey!" she sang louder. Mike and Tina started laughing, and even Santana next to me broke into a fit of giggles. Rachel spun around, pretending to hold an invisible microphone.

"The way that you kiss goodnight," she said and rose the back of her hand to her forehead and pretended to swoon. Quinn had to rush forward and catch her before she actually toppled over.

"The way that you kiss me goodnight," Tina sang back. Rachel straightened, smiling happily as she nodded at Tina. She grabbed Quinn's hands and pulled her forward to dance with her. Quinn had to oblige, if only to ensure Rachel didn't stumble into a lamp post or a trash can.

"The way that you hold me tight!" she shouted. Santana and Tina repeated the line in back up, but I noticed Santana couldn't sing it with a straight face.

"I feel like I wanna sing... when you do your th-thing," Rachel started to laugh at the end of the last part, and now Quinn was blushing. I think drunk Rachel had no concept of personal space, because she was really up in Quinn's personal bubble. Mike was doubled over in laughter and Tina was resting her hand on his back for support as well. It was infectious how close everyone was and how easy it was for them to laugh at themselves. Santana leaned into me, resting her head on my shoulder as she cracked up. I grinned when she looped her arm in mine and let me continue leading her down the street.

"Well, as fun as this is, ladies," Mike said, trying to straighten up. "Our apartment is this way," he nodded to the left. He held Tina's hand in his tightly and helped her get her footing again. She was still giggling as she waved and said her good-byes. Rachel started singing again.

"Ple-eeaaaaaase... don't leave me-!" she called out to her. Tina started to laugh again, and it took both of Tina and Mike's efforts to stagger away down the street. Quinn grabbed Rachel's arm and dragged her along towards our apartment.

"I think I prefer you being drunk," Quinn grimaced as she glanced back at Santana. Santana shrugged, still leaning against me for support. Quinn sighed and turned to Rachel. "Honestly, you had _two_ drinks."

"They were sooo yummy," Rachel giggled as Quinn dragged her up the stairs to our apartment building.

* * *

><p>Despite Quinn's pleas, Santana refused to help with Rachel, and when I moved to help, Santana caught my wrist and held me back. Quinn didn't ask me anything and she eventually managed to drag Rachel up to her bedroom on her own, leaving Santana and I alone to shuffle to the kitchen.<p>

I sat down in the swivel chair and waited. All the cheerfulness we had managed to build up over eating dinner with friends swiftly diminished into quiet uneasiness again. Santana leaned against the counter and fidgeted. I knew she wanted to say something, and as much as I was willing to give her all the time in the world to be ready to speak, I hated the silence.

"Santana, what happened earlier at the dance studio," I stopped when she shifted uncomfortably and turned away. I felt myself sigh and stood up from the chair.

"Would you feel better if..." my voice caught in my throat. I didn't want to tell Santana we should sleep in our own rooms. I wanted to be close to her, so badly. I wanted to scream and shout that I liked kissing her. It was the way she seemed uncomfortable now that kept me from approaching her. I didn't want to disappoint Santana and make Tina right about me.

"I'm going to go to bed," I forced myself to say. Santana looked up.

"Brittany..." She started and I waited a moment. She had pushed away from the counter and taken a step towards me only to look away again. I knew she had no idea how to say whatever it was she wanted to say. I didn't know what to say either. And standing here with her was too much pressure.

"Good night, Santana," I said softly and turned to leave. It was the hardest thing to force my body to move towards the stairs, and even harder to walk up them. It wasn't until I was in my own room, pressed up against my closed door that I felt some form of relief. It was like I needed some sort of physical barrier to keep me from turning around and running back to her.

I slid down against the door until I was sitting with my knees tucked close to my chest. Resting my chin between my knees, I stared across the room at my perfectly made bed. I don't think even Lord Tubbington had slept in it since the other day when he clawed Santana. I pushed off the ground and stumbled over, picking up one of my pillows and laying it on top of another. My heart sunk even further when I realized I left Jeremy in Santana's room.

* * *

><p>"Where's Brittany?" Quinn walked into the kitchen, running her hand through her short blonde hair. Santana was standing with her hip against the sink, arms crossed over her chest, and staring out the window. She jumped when Quinn spoke; she'd been too distracted to notice her approach.<p>

"Upstairs," Santana said softly.

"Everything okay?" Quinn frowned, sliding into a seat at the kitchen island.

"Yeah, she's just tired," Santana said, dropping her hands and turning away from Quinn. She opened the refrigerator door and stood there staring at its contents for a minute.

"Hm, yeah, I guess she had a pretty bad hangover today," Quinn nodded. She tilted her head as she rested it in her palm. "It's weird to see you home so early without you being drunk, asleep, or getting ready to go out."

Santana shut the door to the refrigerator and gave Quinn an exasperated sigh.

"I know you and Rachel think I'm an alcoholic," she said harshly. "And that I don't amount to much-"

"-we don't think that," Quinn said, straightening up a little. "Why are you always so hard on yourself? You make more money than Rachel and I combined."

Santana fell silent. She pursed her lips together and re-crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned back against the counter again.

"Santana, what's bugging you?" Quinn said cautiously.

"I don't know, Quinn, maybe I just don't like you pointing out that I drink a lot, or party too much," Santana snapped.

"You were standing there in a foul mood before I got here," Quinn shot back. She rubbed her hand against her forehead. She had already had a handful tonight with Rachel being drunk. She did not have the energy to deal with Santana's attitude tonight.

"Look, Santana, if you don't want to talk about it, just say so," Quinn said and stood up. "Ever since Brittany moved in, I thought maybe you were getting better about this kind of thing. You know, being _nice_. But it looks like you still turn into a bitch when you're having problems."

"Is that supposed to be comforting, Quinn? You calling me a bitch right after pointing out my flaws?" Santana growled.

"Oh, fuck it," Quinn sighed. "Now you're trying to start a fight. I'm going to bed. Maybe you should do the same."

Santana glared as Quinn started to walk away from the kitchen. She took a step forward, making an attempt to catch Quinn's arm. The blonde twisted to avoid being pulled back into the argument.

"Not tonight, Santana," she snapped. The Latina fell back. Usually, Quinn and Rachel didn't retaliate specifically to avoid confrontations like these. As much as Santana could be outrageous and mean-spirited, she always knew by other people's reactions when she was misdirecting her anger. Quinn was already halfway up the stairs when Santana spoke.

"I think I made Brittany upset," Santana said quietly.

Quinn froze, gripping the guardrail and looked down at Santana. She still looked pissed, but seeing Santana stare at the ground pathetically made her expression soften.

"Are you going to elaborate on that?" Quinn asked, a little harsher than she meant to.

"...no," Santana said.

"Then you should talk to her, not me," Quinn sighed.

"I can't," Santana said and looked up at Quinn. She caught Quinn's steely gaze and looked away. "I don't know what to say."

"I can't help you, Santana, if you don't give me more to work with," Quinn said softly. "Just don't do something stupid. I really don't want to have to tell her she has to move out because you're an idiot."

"I'm not-"

"Unless you tell me more about your problem, I'm going to bed, because I'm also not about to sit here and waste my time reassuring you over something you refuse to talk about."

Santana sighed and slumped into the couch. She waved her hand at Quinn to shoo her away.

"Ugh, you _are_ an idiot," Quinn grumbled and stomped up the rest of the stairs.

* * *

><p><em>I was in the dance hall again. The stage was brightly lit, and I could see the audience. Instead of the normal blank expressions, however, they looked intrigued and almost awestruck. I realized they weren't staring at me, and I turned to look around the stage. As I spun around, I saw another figure on stage with me, but the lights cut out before I could see who it was. A spot light flicked on and blinded me for a moment. I reached out in front of me and stumbled towards where the figure had been. I didn't care as much about falling off the stage as I did about the new stranger that had joined me in my confusion. My hand brushed against something soft, but then I yelped as arms grabbed my waist from behind and pulled me back. I was twirled away into my choreographed routine.<em>

_Instead of trying to find out who my dance partner was, I tore away and raced back towards where I thought the new stranger was. My dance partner grabbed at my hand and jerked me away, pulling me down as a second spotlight illuminated something above me. I struggled in the dancer's grasp and I realized I was shouting. I was shouting because above me was a huge black bird cage. A hand clasped around my mouth and the arm around my waist tightened so that I could barely move. I stared in horror up at the cage and realized that even the audience had fallen silent._

_The bird in the cage was beautiful. Or at least, from what I could make out. I think everyone was waiting for it to start singing. I knew I should be respectful, and try to let the bird sing, but the arms around me were terrifying. If I could just get free, I would be able to listen to the bird's song in peace._

_The bird moved towards the edge of the cage, and suddenly I couldn't not scream and shout. I struggled and protested more. I saw her better now - the bird. It couldn't be-_

"-Santana!" I shouted and woke with a start. I was drenched in sweat, my comforter tangled around my legs and one of my arms. I felt my chest heaving up and down heavily.

* * *

><p>Santana lifted her arm up and over her forehead. She was laying in her bed, listless but also preoccupied with the inability to sleep. She shifted uncomfortably to her side, greeted immediately by purple fuzz. She shrunk back and let her vision focus to see the purple unicorn laying next to her. She sighed and untangled her hand from her hair and pulled him closer to her chest. She'd been tossing and turning for hours and it was the most unusual and uncomfortable thing for her. Normally, she slept like the dead. The instant she fell into the soft curves of her mattress, she was gone. Whether it was because she usually went to bed with the aid of alcohol or just sheer exhaustion, she didn't know, but it bothered her that those were her only choices.<p>

Santana laid on her back again and held Jeremy up in the air above her head. She twisted him around so that he was facing her directly. The clasp around his stomach had come undone, so she sat up to fix it so that he looked more like a unicorn instead of a pillow. She ruffled his mane and paused as she stared at him. She glanced around the empty room as if someone would be watching, and once she confirmed it was just as empty as it had been when she walked in, she slowly rose Jeremy to her face. She placed a light kiss on his muzzle. She felt herself smile as she remembered how Brittany had made him kiss her the night before.

"What am I doing...?" she grumbled, quickly tossing the stuffed animal across her bed. She huffed angrily until she realized he was teetering on the edge of the bed. She lunged forward and caught him, hugging him tightly in her arms as she sat up. It was stupid, but Jeremy was as close to Brittany as she could be right now.

"Why didn't _she_ give me a thank-you kiss, instead of you?" she spoke softly and sadly. She was squishing him in her lap now. She wanted to punch him, but at the same time, couldn't bring herself to harm the silly pillow. She brought her knees up to her chest, inadvertently forcing the stuffed animal into a hug. She leaned her cheek against his face, ignoring the fact that his unicorn horn was jabbing her temple.

"Is she mad at me?"

She pulled away and looked down at Jeremy for an answer. She felt stupid. Of course Brittany had to be mad - she had forced her into kissing her when all they had been doing was dancing playfully. It was okay for girls to dance - it wasn't okay for Santana to snatch Brittany's face and pull her into a kiss like that. Brittany was just really friendly and didn't have personal space issues.

She wasn't even going to begin to worry about the other implications the kiss had. How it made her heart race and head finally stop buzzing with anxiety about school and work. Right now, the most important thing was that Brittany was upset and she didn't know how to fix this. She wanted so bad to fix it.

A muffled cry made Santana jerk upright. The sound had come from Brittany's room. She looked over at the clock and her brow furrowed.

* * *

><p>My reaction was way worse than it normally was when I had that awful dream. It was worse because the dream was worse. Why had Santana been trapped like that? I felt so inclined to rescue her, I didn't even care that I was just as trapped in my dance partner's arms.<p>

I was just recovering from the shock of my nightmare when suddenly there was a rap at my window. I froze, eyes widening at the noise. Could someone climb up the fire escape from below? I thought you had to release the ladder to the ground from above. I was too scared to move to check. If there was a burglar or murderer at my window, the last thing I wanted to do was greet them head on.

"-Brittany!" The tap on the window repeated after a muffled yell. I recognized her voice instantly and scrambled off my bed to unlatch the window. Santana clambered through and held my shoulders to steady herself.

"Jesus, it's cold out there," she shivered. I laughed nervously, and she looked up at me. Her brow furrowed and she took a step back.

"Are you okay? You look like you saw a ghost - I thought I heard you shout," Santana said quickly, whipping her head around the room and I knew immediately she was seeking out signs of an intruder.

"I thought you were a burglar," I giggled, because she looked so concerned and protective. She straightened a little as she relaxed.

"I have been known to sneak in and _out_ of bedroom windows," she winked. I laughed, but then held my hand up to my mouth. I was sure that we were going to wake someone up if I kept being loud like that, and I knew that Santana wouldn't have come in through my window if we weren't supposed to be quiet.

"What time is it?" I whispered, sitting back onto my bed. She shifted and slowly sat down next to me.

"It's 4:17," she said quietly. "Why did you shout?"

"I had a bad dream," I shrugged. "I'm okay, though."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Santana asked. I eyed her curiously.

"Do _you_ want to talk about it?" I repeated. Her eyes widened momentarily and she flushed as she looked away.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "For scaring you."

"It's okay - I mean, I should have known it was you, at the window. But Santana, I meant about earlier-"

"That's what I mean," Santana said, quieter still. "I shouldn't have done that. I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, I hardly even _know_ you, and ugh, I should have asked or just not even-"

"Santana," I whispered. She looked up at me and her cheeks grew even redder. She seemed to have realized she had started to ramble.

"I really liked it," I said quietly and knew that I had to be the one blushing now. "Why... why did _you_ think _I_ was scared?"

Santana fidgeted and started twisting her fingers in her hands. "I don't know... I mean, _I_ was the one that k-" she paused, and then whispered quietly, "...that kissed _you._"

I smiled and wrapped my arm around her, pulling her into a light hug. She wrapped her arms around me and I felt her whole body sigh with relief.

"I just thought you wanted time to think," I said. "I really like being your friend, Santana."

"Me too," she muttered. She nuzzled her face against my collarbone. I glanced behind us at my pillows and slowly nudged her.

"Are you tired?" I asked. She had suddenly started to feel heavy in my arms.

"Exhausted." She sounded like it.

"Come on, let's get some sleep, okay?" I said and pulled her up with me to the top of the bed. I let her head rest against my arm as I laid down next to her and she snuggled closer to me.

"What was your nightmare about?" she whispered. I looked down and saw her eyes were closed.

"It's nothing, I have this awful dream where I'm dancing on stage and my dance partner doesn't have a face," I shrugged. I felt bad for shrugging, because she snapped awake from the movement. I wrapped my other arm around her and her eyelids drooped again.

"Mm? That sounds... really scary..." she mumbled. "I thought I heard you shout for me."

I froze and felt my face grow warm again from embarrassment. I had shouted for her, hadn't I? I was scared to tell her that she was in my dream. I didn't even know what the dream was about, and telling her she'd been trapped in a cage in my dream made me feel like I sounded crazy.

"I guess... I did, maybe I just missed you," I mumbled sheepishly. I hadn't really slept alone since I moved in, so maybe that's why I dreamt of Santana. I was so embarrassed, I didn't notice that she had shifted up a little.

"I couldn't sleep either," she admitted sheepishly. The combination of her being sleepy and shy made her look extremely cute as she shuffled closer to me. "I think... I needed my snuggle buddy."

"Mm?" My voice caught in my throat and that was all I could manage to reply with. She nodded and leaned forward, gently placing her lips against mine. I just about died.

"Good night, Britt," she whispered. She fell asleep almost immediately. Even though I felt a million times better, I had a harder time falling asleep. Maybe it was because I was so happy.

**_Author's Notes: _**

**_So first off, Rachel is singing a song from Mamma Mia (Honey Honey) and that one song by P!ink (Please Don't Leave Me). I think those are the titles anyway._**

**_Secondly, I apologize for how long this took to write. I had to re-write the second half of this because I rushed forward too much. I originally meant to address the kiss/feelings about the kiss next chapter, but my beta read it and said that it was going to fast. I agreed, especially after I spent 12 chapters getting them to kiss. The problem is that my outline only went up to chapter 12 - I have more things planned, but not chapter-by-chapter like I had previously. So bear with me, please, these chapters are getting more difficult to write at such a rapid pace. _**

**_I don't know how Santana/Brittany's conversation went over - Santana's feelings about the kiss still feel a bit ambiguous. I know how she feels, but as an objective reader, I'm not sure. If you guys wanna let me know how you're perceiving that, that would be great. I'm not going to say anymore than that, since I would like to know what you think, not what I think you should think. If that makes sense._**

**_I'll start working on the next chapter on Monday/Tuesday after I catch up with all my homework. Thanks for being patient, guys. :) - HB_**


	14. Snuggle Bug

The obnoxious buzzing of my alarm clock woke me up from the most pleasant and comfortable calm. I shifted, untangling my arm from my covers and started to slap around for the snooze button. Santana's arm tightened around me, and she snuggled closer to the crook of my neck. It was extremely difficult, now that I was awake, not to just throw my alarm clock across the room and return the cuddle. I managed to find the switch and suddenly we were blanketed in silence again. I felt Santana sigh contently. Her breath was warm against my skin and made the back of my neck prickle. I forced myself to look up at the clock to read the time. It was early, but I didn't know when Santana needed to be awake.

"Hey," I said quietly. My voice was a little scratchy, but I don't think Santana noticed. I let my hand fall back down to brush through her hair and I caught her smile before she buried her face back into neck. I giggled.

"Santana, what time do you have class?" I made a mental note to exchange my schedule with her so that we could coordinate some sort of routine.

"I don't want to go to class," she mumbled. As cute as she sounded, and as much as I really wanted to let her sleep, I didn't like the idea of Santana skipping her classes. She'd done it once already because of me.

"Santana, I have class in a few hours too," I tried to say as insistent as I could, but I ended up laughing. She grumbled incoherently, and I pulled away slightly so I could hear her.

"...I don't care..." she moaned, shuffling closer to me, her eyes clenched closed. She managed to blindly find her spot on my neck again. I wiggled my arm that was tucked beneath her. It was hard to do because it was mostly asleep and numb.

"Santana, come on, get up," I urged, trying to move. She wrapped her arms around my neck and clung onto me, keeping me from being able to properly sit up. I saw her twist and peek up at me, but she quickly shut her eyes and pretended that I hadn't seen.

"Get up," I giggled and started to tickle her. She let out a small yelp and shot back, falling back onto the bed. I sat up more and continued to tickle her. She started to squirm and kick, rolling around until she managed to twist herself into a cocoon made up of my blanket. I sat back and sighed as she inched her way closer to me again, protected by the tickle-shield of my blanket and placed her cheek against my thigh. She curled up and I couldn't help but be reminded of a caterpillar.

"Okay, snuggle-bug," I said, pushing the covers away from over her head so I could run my fingers through her hair. "What will it take to get you up? Food? Coffee?"

She shook her head and then uncoiled a bit from my blanket as she flipped over to look up at me. She smiled and then closed her eyes again, as if it were possible to pretend to still be asleep.

"You're just going to have to skip class too and let me sleep here," she declared in a matter-of-fact tone, which would have been more foreboding if she didn't sound so sleepy.

"How about..." I said, wiggling my legs free from beneath her head. "...if I give the sleeping beauty a kiss?"

She kept her eyes closed as she rose her eyebrows and smiled. I laughed and twisted around so that I could face her properly. I was just leaning down when there was a knock at my door.

"Brittany?" Rachel's voice came quietly from beyond my closed door. Santana had snapped awake, wide-eyed and alarmed. I shuffled away from her and scrambled towards the door just in time to catch it before Rachel managed to open it more than a few inches.

"Hi," I said. My voice felt an octave higher than it should have been. Rachel shrunk back a little from the door, surprised by my closeness.

"Oh, um," Rachel said, looking past me. I moved a little to block her view.

"Sorry, it's still a mess in here from all the unpacking... I'm really embarrassed about it," I said quickly. "What did you need?"

"I just wondered if it was okay that your door was closed," Rachel said softly. "Your cat slept in my room last night, but I wasn't sure if you wanted him."

"Oh, Lord Tubbington kind of just sleeps wherever he wants," I said, relaxing a little. "But I can keep my door open next time."

"It's fine, I was just checking," Rachel said, making one last attempt to look through my door. I smiled politely at her as she shuffled towards the stairs.

"I'm making some tea. I can put on a pot of coffee if you want?"

"I'll take tea, if that's okay," I said.

"Alright. Can you wake up, Santana? She has class in an hour," Rachel said. "It'll probably take half that time for her to get up."

"I'll get her," I nodded. Once she disappeared down the stairs, I shut my door quickly and spun around. Santana was huddled in my closet, clearly not hidden very well because she was still tangled in my blanket and couldn't close the door all the way.

"I wonder where Santana is," I said quietly, placing a hand on my hip and tapping my chin lightly with the other. She chuckled and scrambled out of the closet, kicking my blanket away.

"You're bad at hiding," I said.

"What are you talking about? I'm the sneakiest person ever," she rolled her eyes as she leaned down to grab my comforter and toss it on the bed. She started to spread it over my mattress and I moved to help her make my bed.

"That was close," I laughed. I don't know why it was funny, but she nodded and laughed with me. Once we made the bed, she made her way to my window. She had already crawled through it when she doubled back and crouched against the sill.

"What?" I asked, looking around. "Did you forget something?"

"No, you did," she smiled, leaning her head to the side. She looked at me anxiously. It took me a moment to figure out what she was talking about, and I laughed. I took a step forward to close the distance between myself and the window.

"You're already awake," I teased as I leaned down to level with her.

"You promised," she insisted. I nodded, looking at her seriously.

"I did, didn't I? That's rude of me," I said.

"Very," she agreed. I smiled and moved forward to catch her lips on mine. She released one hand from the window sill and placed it gently on my cheek as I pushed into her a little. I wiggled my nose against hers, smiled and then pulled back.

"Go get ready before Rachel comes back," I laughed. She pouted and I tapped her nose with my finger. "Go."

"Fine," she mumbled before slowly making her way across the fire escape like a kicked puppy.

"Don't give me attitude, Lopez," I called after her. "Or you won't get another."

"No!" she laughed as she reached her window. "Anything but that!"

"Hurry up, you still have time to eat breakfast," I said and then pulled my head back from my window and clasped it shut.

* * *

><p>"-Every morning, I look at you and smile." Santana paused, holding her hand to her chest as she shook her head. She had her headphones on and her free hand was stirring a brown sauce in a frying pan. "'Cause boy you came around and you knocked me down - knocked me down."<p>

She stepped away from the stove top and did a little spin, attempting to casually fall back into Mike's choreography as she sang along to the song. "Sometimes love comes around... and it knocks you down, just get back up when it knocks you down, knocks you down."

Tina walked into the apartment just as Santana finished the chorus of the song. The Asian stepped forward and dropped the spare key on the coffee table and tossed her purse onto the sofa as she walked towards the kitchen.

"I never thought that I would hear myself say - oooh," Santana paused, her eyes clenched closed as she was completely engrossed in the song. She waved her hand at the window, improvising the choreography a bit to add a little of her own flare. "Ya'll gon' head, I think I'm gonna kick it with my girl today, kick it with my girl today." She snapped back up straight and rose her hand to her forehead.

"I used to be commander and chief of my pimp ship flyin' high, flyin' high," she saluted to no one as she sang the last word a beat longer. She jumped back into the routine, snapping her hands in the air and shuffling them back and forth. "Til I met this pretty little missle, that shot me out the sky - oo-ooh, shot me out the sky," she held one hand up and dragged it out in front of her.

"Hey, till now I'm crashin', I don't know how it happened, but I know it feels so damn good," she said, pulling both arms back to her chest into small fists as she swayed back and forth. Tina giggled and slid into one of the swivel chairs at the kitchen island and waited for Santana to notice her presence.

"Said if I could go back and make it happen faster, don't you know I would baby-" Santana twirled around and pointed towards the dining room, but then squeaked and jumped as she saw Tina sitting at the counter. Tina burst into laughter and started clapping while Santana quickly removed her headphones.

"Where the hell did you come from?" Santana shouted, her cheeks growing redder by the second.

"I may have given back my key, but I still know where the spare is hidden," Tina said, attempting to recover from Santana's reaction.

"Shit, Tina," Santana shook her head as she turned away, casually returning her attention back to the stove top. "Stop being so fucking ninja."

"A-ha," Tina rolled her eyes. The Asian jokes got old pretty quickly. She sat up and leaned forward at the counter, clasping her hands together as she looked at Santana. "So... I rushed over as soon as I knew you were out of class because a little bird told me I had to do damage control."

"Little bird?" Santana glanced back at Tina with her brow raised.

"Quinn said you and Brittany had a fight," Tina said, sitting back. "But from the looks of things, you're in pretty high spirits. I mean, you're awake, first of all."

"A-ha," Santana repeated Tina's tone of voice.

"-and you're singing _while_ cooking," Tina shook her head in disbelief. "Who are you and what have you done with Santana Lopez?"

"I sing all the time," Santana shook her head at Tina and returned to stirring the sauce on the stove. "News flash, I'm a music major. And I cook."

"I have never seen you make anything in this kitchen that didn't require a microwave or a blender."

"So?" Santana shrugged. "What's your point?"

"Nothing, I'm just really surprised. I take it you made up with Brittany?"

Santana paused for a moment and then shrugged. "It wasn't a big deal. Just a misunderstanding."

"So I guess I shouldn't have sent Mike, Quinn, and Rachel to do an interrogation?"

"You did what?" Santana said abruptly.

* * *

><p>"-one more time," Mike insisted, leaning forward and holding both his knees. He huffed and puffed. I laughed and stumbled over to him. I created the routine, so I wasn't as tired, but I'd also just put in a good three hours teaching my dance class.<p>

"I'll let you practice on your own, Mike. We can go over it again some other day once you've had time to get the hang of it," I said and sat down. He flopped to the ground next to me and nodded.

"Yeah, okay," he nodded. I patted his knee.

"You're never here on Mondays," I said.

"Oh, yeah, well, I work with you and I've hardly seen you dance. And after Santana called you out on how great of a dancer you are, I had to see for myself."

"How do I rate?" I said with a sheepish smile.

"I'm impressed, that's for sure," he laughed. I nodded and gave him a light punch on the shoulder.

"You're not so bad yourself," I grinned. I was glad Mike had stopped by during my dance class, but he kept smiling at me weird and it made me uncomfortable. I kept feeling like he was waiting for me to say something, but I had no idea what he wanted to talk about. I started to stand when two familiar faces bustled in.

"Oh, good, you're still here," Quinn said and waved lightly to Mike. Rachel hustled in after her, carrying several stacks of paper and a few books.

"Sorry we're late," Rachel said. "I needed to go to the library and-" Quinn shot her a sharp look. I looked over at Mike and he was avoiding my gaze. Had he come over to dance with me just so I wouldn't miss Quinn and Rachel? That was silly, I lived with them.

"Late?" I asked.

"Oh, no, ignore that," Quinn waved her hand and joined us on the floor. "Well, I mean..."

"Tina told us to drop by," Rachel said, rolling her eyes as she sat down on the floor. "She said you and Santana got in a fight."

I jerked my head back in surprise. When had Santana and I been fighting? I hadn't even seen Santana since this morning, and we _definitely_ hadn't been fighting then. Oh. They were talking about yesterday. How did they know about that? My eyes widened a little in surprise and concern - did they know that Santana and I kissed?

"Whoa, calm down," Quinn said, stretching forward and placing her hand gently on my knee. She glared at Rachel before looking back at me. "You're face just changed faster than a traffic light."

"I'm sorry," Rachel mumbled. "We - I didn't mean to make you panic."

"Santana was in a weird mood last night," Quinn explained. "And she told me she thought she upset you - is everything okay?"

"I, um," I tilted my head to the side and furrowed my brow. Santana had really good friends. They were all really worried about her well-being and making sure she was okay, even over something that we'd already resolved. I was envious.

I didn't really know how to reply. I was still a little shocked they had asked me about last night. I didn't know how much Santana told Tina, and I didn't know what was okay to say back. As much as I was glad Santana and I weren't uncomfortable with each other anymore, I didn't know if I should be talking about kissing her, or her kissing me.

"Well-" I was interrupted by a muffled sound coming from my bag next to the mirrors. I staggered to my feet and quickly rushed over, hoping to grab my phone before anyone could hear the ring tone.

_-Ass ass ass ass-_

I flicked open my phone immediately, wide-eyed. I couldn't really avoid their gaze, because I could either turn to them or to the mirror, and either way I could see them. I settled for looking at the ground.

"Hello?"

_"Britt, it's Santana," _her voice came out a little harsh, like she'd been running or something.

"I know," I said. Even though I was a little flustered, I couldn't help but smile.

_"Shit, where is my shirt- ugh, sorry, I have to make this quick, Tina thinks I'm just changing my top."_

"Why are you changing?"

_"I spilt- oh nevermind, Britt, are Quinn and Rachel with you?"_

"Yes, um, they want to know about yesterday-"

_"Did you say anything yet?"_

"No," I said, trying my best to be as quiet as possible.

_"Okay. Look, Britt, I'm sorry. Quinn saw me upset yesterday and I let it slip that I was worried about upsetting you. They're being nosy."_

"They're just being good friends," I laughed. "It's okay."

_"No, it's not okay. It's none of their business. Just, ugh..."_

"It's okay, Santana," I shifted lightly and glanced back at Quinn and Rachel. They were leaned forward and I could tell they were trying to listen in on the conversation. Mike just looked uncomfortable.

"You're lucky to have such good friends. And you were right, about _Jenna_," I said. I hated lying, but I realized I could use the last time I was upset about something to my advantage. No one else had been aware that I had cried to Santana about Jenna. "I mean, I needed to try and find out what happened with my old apartment. You weren't pressuring me to do anything."

_"Brittany, you're a genius."_ She sounded relieved and amused at the same time. I could hear her trying not to laugh. _"Shit, I have to go. Oh, hey, can you tell Rachel- Oh, nevermind, I'll call her."_

"Okay. I'll see you when I get home?"

_"Yeah. See you soon, Britt-britt."_

"Bye," I smiled and clasped the phone shut.

"That was Santana?" Rachel said quizzically.

"Yeah, she wanted me to tell you guys to mind your own business," I laughed. "But it's okay. I was just being a wimp about finding out what ever happened to Jenna. Santana was really insistent on me calling her."

"That's all?" Quinn said, her brow furrowing. "She made a big stink out of all that?"

"Well, yeah, I was really upset over it," I said, sheepishly. It was true, I had been really upset. I was surprised I hadn't really thought about it since. Jenna was my best friend, or had been. "Her phone ended up being disconnected."

"Well, I think it was pretty clear she stole your rent money," Rachel frowned.

"I was just scared to confront her about it," I shrugged.

"That's stupid, Brittany," Rachel shook her head. I winced.

"I'm just glad it wasn't anything serious," Quinn sighed. "You _just_ moved in."

* * *

><p>Mike said he was meeting Tina back at his apartment before she had work, but he apologized if he had made me uncomfortable. I promised he hadn't. Santana had called Rachel on our way back to the apartment to ask her and Quinn to go to the grocery store. I asked if I should go with them, but Rachel just asked if I could take her books from the library home with me. I was glad to do so, because I wasn't really feeling that great anymore. Mostly because Rachel had unwittingly insinuated I was dumb, but also because the gravity of my lie had settled in on me.<p>

The thought of Jenna had come out of no where, but now that I was reminded of her, I realized just how fortunate I was to have Santana and her friends accept me into their little niche. Yet, at the drop of a hat, afraid that Santana was upset, all her friends had jumped to the rescue to ensure she was okay. The whole walk home, all I could think about was Tina's warning.

_"If you do anything to hurt her, you're going to have to answer to me and Quinn and Rachel."_

How ironic was it that Santana's friends were so protective of her because she had trouble making friends? I stopped at the alley next to the apartment. I could see the fire escape that connected our bedrooms. I had lied to Quinn and Rachel about the situation that had Santana and I so confused, and now I realized I had lied to Tina as well. I told Tina all I wanted was to be Santana's friend. That wasn't the case at all, was it?

"Hey!" Tina waved as she stepped out of the elevator. She held her arm out to hold the doors for me. I smiled as best I could and anxiously stepped into the elevator. I felt really sheepish running into her after talking with Quinn and Rachel. It was like the weight of their concern for Santana was mashed together into this big heavy ball that I had to carry. It was either that or I hadn't realized how heavy Rachel's books from the library were.

"I don't know what you did, Brittany," she said, and my eyes grew wide for a second before I realized she was smiling. "But keep doing it. I don't think I've ever seen her in such a good mood."

My smile became less forced as I looked down at the ground. I was embarrassed, mostly because if Santana was really happy, I was really happy too. It took me a moment to recover from the compliment, because it masked my anxiety for a minute. Tina had let go of the door and it was closing as I remembered that I was worried. My hand stretched out and caught the door and I stepped between the elevator and the floor.

"Tina!" I said before she got to the door. She turned and looked back at me, her smile vanishing for a moment and a flash of confusion replaced it.

"What's up?" she said.

"Do you guys always get so ...concerned if Santana is upset?" I bit my lip anxiously and stepped out of the elevator while Tina seemed to think the question over. Then she shook her head.

"No," Tina sounded puzzled. "I mean, yes, when it's something serious, but we were worried about _you_, sweetie."

I stood dumbfounded by her response. Why on earth were they worried about me?

"W-what?"

"Santana can be really uncommunicative sometimes," Tina sighed. "And we were worried that you wouldn't know what to do about that."

"Oh... but you said," I started, but I didn't really know how to finish the statement. Yesterday, she had been so terrifying and protective of Santana, and yet here she was being so sweet and considerate towards me. I was positive now that no one but Santana and I knew about the kiss, otherwise, Tina would not be so nice to me.

"You told me not to make her upset..." I said quietly.

"Honey, you didn't," Tina said, furrowing her brow and taking a step towards me. "Santana made you upset - or thought she did, or whatever. I just wanted you to know that it's not all sunshine and rainbows with Santana when I talked to you yesterday."

"But-"

"Brittany, don't worry so much," Tina laughed. "I have to go, but... are you sure you and Santana are okay?"

"Yes," I nodded quickly. I didn't want to keep Tina if she had to leave.

"Alright," Tina nodded. "If you want to talk more later, you can call me - just ask Santana for my number, yeah?"

"Okay," I smiled and pressed the button to call the elevator again. "Thank you, Tina." She didn't seem so scary now.

"Buh-bye. Remember, don't start something you can't finish," she winked and then she was gone. I don't know why, but my cheeks felt hot and I knew I was blushing. She was talking about our conversation yesterday, right?

* * *

><p>I heard Santana before I saw her, because she was singing really loudly. The moment I stepped into the apartment, I was greeted not only by her melodious voice, but also by the most wonderful smell. It wafted over me from the kitchen, and after I set Rachel's books down, I followed it to its source.<p>

"-by myself, and I look across the water," she was holding a pair of tongs to her face like a microphone. I held my breath as I tip-toed towards her. "And I think of all the things, what you're doing, and in my head I paint a picture!"

I think she sensed my approach, because she suddenly stopped singing and tossed the pair of tongs on the counter and swerved around abruptly. I froze mid-tip-toe.

"Tina, will you leave alrea-" she started, but upon realizing I was not Tina, the scowl on her face softened immediately. I smiled back. "Brittany!"

"Keep singing," I pleaded and hopped over to her. She laughed and shook her head.

"Wait wait," she held up her hand and turned back to the stove. She quickly scooped whatever it was she was cooking onto a spoon and held it up. "Try this?"

"Is it spicy?" I asked.

"Maybe a little," she shrugged.

"Not too hot?"

"Just try it," she said. I shuffled closer to her and clamped my mouth around the spoon. She laughed and pulled the spoon away and I stood up a little straighter.

"That's delicious, oh my god," I said, holding my hand up to cover my mouth as I chewed. "What is it?"

"Arroz con gandules," Santana said, affecting an accent as she spoke. It made me a little light-headed.

"Mm? And what's that?" I said, inching closer to her and pointing at a stack of crispy golden brown lumps next to the stove.

"Fried empanadas," she said, scrunching her nose as she giggled at my fascination. They looked and smelled really yummy.

"Which means?"

"It's a stuffed bread that's fried. It has beef and raisins in it," she said. "Do you like raisins?" This time she inched closer to me. She looked up at me timidly as she poked her fingers at my waist. I flushed and nodded.

"Y-yeah. But with beef?" My stomach felt like it was twisting, because the way she looked at me gave me the impression she was going to lean in and kiss me again. I wanted her to, but at the same time, it scared me for some reason.

"It's good, I promise," she giggled. I think she realized I was feeling nervous, because she slipped her hands away and picked up the tongs from the counter. I was a little sad she turned away, because as much as I was nervous, I didn't want her to stop being close to me. I shuffled behind her and wrapped my arms around her from behind. I felt her breath catch as my palms pressed against her stomach.

"What were you singing?" I asked quietly, resting my chin against her shoulder. She hummed and leaned the side of her head against mine.

"Just a song I sang a few years ago for glee club," she said quietly.

"You can keep singing."

Santana chuckled and nodded her head lightly.

"Where was I?" she asked.

"I don't know, I don't know the song," I shrugged. "Something about a picture."

"Ah, yeah," she nodded again. "...'cause since I've come on home, well, my body's been a mess," she started off quietly. I started wiggling back and forth, pulling her along from side to side. She giggled and leaned forward to turn off the stove.

"And I've missed your ginger hair, and the way you like to dress," she sang a little louder. I slipped my hands away from her waist and found her free hand. I stepped back and twirled her around.

"Won't you come on over? Stop makin' a fool out of me," she sang loudly as she stepped out into the twirl, her arm extended as I held onto her hand. "Why don't you come on over, Valerie?"

I tugged her hand and pulled her back. She sounded amazing. She looked amazing. With her back in my arms, I noticed she even _smelled_ amazing, and somehow I sensed that over all the food. She giggled and pressed into me again.

"Valerie-e-e," she called out and I held her hands criss-crossed in front of her from behind and started to hop back and forth. She leaned forward, giggling, and I was glad I was holding onto her because she almost fell over. I wanted her to keep singing, but I liked laughing too.

"Valer... Va," she couldn't finish the verse. I was content with just seeing her happy. I wrapped my arms tight around her and she grabbed my legs and pulled me into a piggy-back.

"Valerieeee!" I called out, although I didn't know the song. I started to crack up as well and she shuffled forward to set me down into one of the swivel chairs. She turned around and gripped my knees.

"So you _can_ sing," she managed to say.

"And _you_ can dance," I leaned forward, pressing our foreheads together. She smiled sheepishly and ran her hands up and down the top of my thighs. I felt a tingling sensation creep up the back of my neck at her touch.

"And cook, apparently," I said, snapping back and looking at the stove.

"You're going to _love_ the empanadas," she said excitedly. I was pretty sure I would love anything she made, as long as she was the one to make it.

"Why did you send Rachel and Quinn to the store?"

"Because Rachel's a butt and has to eat vegan food," she said and stuck out her tongue and wrinkled her nose.

"Why both of them?" I said, tilting my head to the side. She smiled mischievously.

"'Cause I wanted you to myself," she muttered. Her fingers tugged at the hem of my shirt nervously. I laughed, but suddenly realized that it was the kind of nervous laugh you get when you're uncomfortable. I had just treaded from light-hearted and playful dancing to this weird, tense sensation. The way she was playing with my shirt, I knew exactly what she wanted. And I wanted to give it to her, but having spent the whole day panicking over kissing her and what that meant for our friendship and how her friends were so concerned without even knowing we'd kissed had definitely shaken me. I was scared. Because I didn't know what kissing her meant and because I was scared that I wouldn't be able to stop kissing her if we started.

"Hey," she whispered, snapping me out of my trance. I looked up from her hands and at her eyes. Her brow was knit slightly and she lifted her hand to brush my hair out of my face.

"Santana," I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. She leaned forward and kissed my nose. Somehow, that made me feel so much better.

"Are you worried about everyone harassing you today?" she smiled as she locked her pinkie with mine. I nodded sheepishly.

"I'm sorry about them. They mean well," she said, rolling her eyes. "And I'm sorry for making you lie to them."

"You didn't make me do anything, Santana," I said softly. I leaned into her and wrapped my arms around her, resting my head on her shoulder. She placed her hands on my back and held me like that for a while. I don't know how long, but I was glad. I was glad that even though I knew she was disappointed I didn't kiss her that she still wanted to hug me and be close to me. After a while, she slipped her hands away and gave me a soft peck on the cheek.

"Let's set the table, okay?"

**A/N: I don't really know what to say about this chapter. It came out a little rough around the edges, imo. But my beta said it turned out well and that I'm being super critical of myself. That's why it took so long to update - I'm so sorry! I know some of you were anxiously waiting for me to update. **

**I'll try to finish Chapter 15 tonight so I can post it tomorrow - Brittany's feelings are all jumbled and I don't like leaving her like that.**


	15. Hot Cocoa

"Five more minutes," Santana grumbled, clinging around me as I tapped her cell phone screen to disengage the alarm. I smiled at her sleepy state and hugged her tightly.

"Only five, okay?"

She hummed in response and nuzzled into me. I sighed and leaned back into my pillow, gently running my fingers through her hair. Even with Santana sleepy and content in my arms, I couldn't turn off my brain.I still had no idea what our relationship was, but every time I tried to ask, the words got caught in my throat. I wondered if she was going just as crazy over it as I was. Probably even more, since she was the one waiting.

Santana and I had interchanged sleeping in her room and my room the past few nights without so much as a conversation about it. After dinner on Monday night, she'd be so sweet and understanding even though I couldn't figure out what to say to her. She just let me curl up next to her and that was that. I felt bad for not reciprocating her advances, but since that night, she hadn't even tried to kiss me. I think she was waiting for me to sort out my head. It was hard to, though, because now that I had settled in, I had to make up the shifts I took off last week and Santana worked every night except last night.

Last night, Rachel had insisted I go to her show. She got tickets for Quinn and Santana too, and although they'd already seen it, they agreed to go with me. Santana said it was because no one should have to suffer through it alone, but the way she winked at me after Rachel scowled made me realize she was just joking. Plus, Rachel was amazing. It was apparently a collaboration with a local theater group and her school, but I'd never been to any sort of musical theater performance before, and I thought it was great. After the show, Rachel led us back stage to introduce me to her friend, Kurt. He was another one of their glee club friends. He was very friendly, but he said he had to go so he could take off the make up from the show and bustled off. Rachel was quick to follow, mentioning something about her pores.

Since we'd come home with Quinn and Rachel, I went to bed last night by myself, but it wasn't long until Santana snuck in through my window. I was used to it by now, since she had done the same thing the past few nights. Well, the one time, she had crept in, but Lord Tubbington was in my room. I don't know why she doesn't like him, but he was too sleepy to move and keeping the door open for him was too risky. Rachel had scooped up Lord Tubbington when we came home last night, though, so we were safe. I don't think he was happy about it, but Santana was.

Santana's alarm went off again before I knew it, and I shifted to turn it off again, surprised nine minutes passed already. I should have been keeping better track of the time.

"Can we just lay in bed all day?" she pleaded, burying her face in the crook of my neck. I knew she was awake now, since she'd spoken first. I chuckled and squeezed my arms around her shoulders.

"If we did that, you'd just be up all night," I said and shook my head. Her shoulders started to shake and I realized she was trying not to laugh.

"What's funny?" I asked, trying to look down at her. She lifted her head from resting on my shoulder and her mouth spread into a toothy grin.

"Just... _wanky_," she said and winked at me. I flushed. The way she said it was all kinds of hot.

"What does that even mean?" I managed to say, but it came out as a whisper.

"It means," she said, sitting up a little and leaning closer to me. My eyes fell as she ran her tongue over her lower lip. "That there are a lot of reasons I could be up all night." Her voice was low, almost like a growl. It made me fidget. She definitely noticed, because her grin got impossibly wider.

"...like watch late night cartoons?" I gulped. She laughed and shook her head. She knew I knew what she meant, but she was having her fun trying to get me to say it or maybe even act on it. She leaned even closer, and I could feel her breath on my lips. She held there, for a moment. When I froze and didn't move, she leaned to the side and placed a very sweet, very gentle kiss on my cheek. She kept her lips there for a little while and then pulled back.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. I felt sheepish for not kissing her, _yet again_. She hadn't tried to kiss me since that day she was cooking in the kitchen, and I felt so bad for withholding that from her.

"You don't have to be," Santana said reassuringly.

"I-" I paused and closed my eyes. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to tell her that it wasn't okay - I liked her kissing me. I liked it so, so much. I liked it so much and I liked _her_ so much that I wanted to stay up all night with her, kissing her and _more_. I just couldn't figure out if that was okay. To want her as much as I did. I knew she wanted to kiss me, but what if kissing her led to more, and more led to so many other unanswered questions? I felt like the room was spinning, even with my eyes clenched shut, and my fists tightened around what I thought was my comforter. I only realized that I was still holding Santana in my arms when she let out a small 'oomf' from me pressing my hands against her back.

"Britt," she said softly. Her voice was so kind and sweet. It made me open my eyes and I met her soft gaze. She tried to sit up, but I held her still. She laughed and then leaned forward and kissed my forehead.

"So does this mean we can stay in bed all day?" she said and laid her head down on my shoulder, stuck in my vice-grip. I let out a soft chuckle. It was reassuring, her joking like that. It felt like not only was she okay with how I was acting, but also that she was willing to give me all the time I needed. She didn't even have to say it.

"No," I shook my head lightly. "But maybe just five more minutes."

"I like the way you think," she sighed and snuggled closer.

* * *

><p>I stretched my arms over my head and rotated my head around in a circle. I was standing in front of a mirror in the dance studio I had my solo repertory class in. Usually, I worked one on one with my instructor or by myself until he came to check on my progress, but today we were doing improvisational choreography and the rest of the class was seated against the back mirrors. There were very few of us, eight in total, but it was always nerve-wracking to dance in front of other professionally trained dancers.<p>

"Alright, Brittany," my instructor said, waving his hand in the air before he pressed play on the iPod in his hand. The songs were going to be random, so each of us was being graded on how well we could adapt to the music. The beat started off weird, and I paused to get a sense of the tempo. The drums kicked into a more steady beat as a guitar joined in, so I started to tap my foot to catch myself up.

_You think that we connect. That the chemistry's correct._

I swayed back and forth. I didn't recognize the song, and I was so unsure about the tempo.

_Your words walk right through my ears, presuming I like what I heaaaar._

The beat quickened a little more, and I shuffled to the side. I felt my face grow hot, knowing I was messing up my steps already. I tried to keep moving, to keep with the beat. It was too slow, but slowly building up to a faster pace, I could feel it. I didn't like this song.

_And now I'm stuck in the, the web you're spining. You've got me for your preeeeey-_

There it was, the build up. I managed to strike the movements of my arms and legs to the beat now that it picked up along in the chorus, but I couldn't help but still feel foolishly sluggish in my movements. I wasn't being creative. I wasn't performing well at all. The thought of being ensnared in Santana's arms and her leaning hesitantly over me this morning just popped into my head. It was so difficult to keep her out of my head, even when I was dancing. I usually got so lost in the music, that I didn't even think about anything. I hated being so confused about Santana.

_Sorry I'm not home right now, I'm walking into spiderwebs, so leave a message and I'll call you back. A likely story, but leave a message and I'll call you back._

I tried to hop back and forth and just get lost in the song, but the lyrics were distracting. I yelled at myself internally. I had to keep moving, this wasn't just dancing in a club with friends or even teaching my hip hop classes. This song wasn't about Santana. It was just some random song on shuffle. My instructor was watching my every move, and every mistake or hesitation I made was going to count against me.

_Now it's gone to deep. You wake me in my sleep. My dreams become nightmares, 'cause you're ringing in my ears-_

I stumbled. Legitimately stumbled. I hadn't messed up that badly in a long time, not in any of my classes. I just couldn't detract from the words. All I could think about was how confusing the song was, with its words and its lyrics and how I was confused enough with everything else going on right now. Suddenly, I remembered my awful dream, and Santana being stuck in that birdcage. I remembered how terrified she looked, and I just lost all focus. I heard the music stop before I could even recover.

"That's enough. You're not in your element today, Pierce. You haven't been all week," my instructor shook his head at me and pointed to the back of the room for me to take a seat. He didn't offer any harsher critiques and just waited for me to move. I shuffled awkwardly to the back, and I heard a few girls snicker. If I wasn't so mad at myself, I might have shot them a glare, but even then, I always tried to keep a good attitude around my classmates.

"What's with you?" my classmate, Madison, hissed at me. She was one of my closest friend, after Jenna, but we didn't see each other much because she lived pretty far away and we only had one class together this semester.

"Nothing," I muttered back and nudged her away. She rolled her eyes and leaned back against the back wall of the studio as one of the other girls took to the floor.

"You were awful," she said, shaking her head.

"Thanks," I said and gave her a look. She shrugged at me, forcing my to sigh. "I've just been really stressed out."

"About what? You love dancing," she said, raising a brow.

"Just..." I glanced around. Our instructor was focused on our dancing classmate and the music was loud enough to keep him from hearing our whispers. I needed to talk to someone about what was bothering me, but I couldn't talk to Tina or Quinn or Rachel about it. Maybe telling Madison wouldn't be terrible. "Have you... have you ever had a friend that you really like? And like... ugh... you maybe pushed the friend barrier too much?"

"Ah, this is boy drama," she smiled and nudged me with her shoulder. I smiled sheepishly. If that's what she wanted to take out of it, I was fine not correcting her. If I said otherwise, she'd be too focused on that to help me.

"I never pinned you for the type to try a 'friends with benefits' situation," she winked. I shoved her to shut her up, because she didn't say it as quietly. She dropped the topic and we returned our focus to our classmates dancing.

After a few more songs each, class was dismissed. My instructor called out, "Remember, next week, are your midterm performances," before leaving.

I had improved some throughout the rest of class, and thankfully the songs weren't as confusing. It might have helped some to let a little off my chest to Madison, even if we hadn't been able to talk about it much. She rushed over to me, grinning, and I suddenly wondered if it had been a good idea to mention anything at all.

"So, tell me about this friend with benefits guy," she said and poked me in the ribs with her elbow. I flushed immediately and avoided her gaze.

"It's not like that," I muttered. I heard a snicker from across the room. Madison asked me something else, but I was distracted.

"-of course it's 'like that'," I heard my other classmate, Tara, say in a low whisper to Avery. I really didn't like Avery.

"So, how'd you push those boundaries?" Madison said, and I looked at her and knew from her expression she was asking me for a second time. I shook my head.

"Look, it's nothing, forget I mentioned it," I mumbled. I shouldn't have said anything. I leaned down to scoop up my bag, but fished for my water bottle first.

"-heard that she slept with the instructor-"

I snapped my head back and accidentally spilt water down my front. I stared into the mirror and saw Avery smirking at me from her corner of the studio.

"How else would she get in this class? She's a junior," Tara laughed. They weren't even trying to keep their voices down now. A few of the other girls from my class were sitting with them and kept glancing in my direction. I looked away and pretended like I couldn't hear them.

"And she's awful," Avery shook her head. "I heard..." she paused and leaned closer to Tara. "She had help getting accepted in the school. You know how you get an admissions advisor? Yeah."

"No," Tara gasped. Her reaction was obviously feigned surprise and she shot me a dirty look. I hated that she caught me staring at them. I hated that they could all see my reaction because of all the mirrors. That Madison just stood there and didn't try to defend me. No one was speaking _to_ me, but they all knew I could hear them. I shoved my water bottle into my bag and hastily stood up, rushing towards the exit. I knew my face was red. I could feel the muscles in my face tighten the way they did before I was about to burst into tears. I hated that they got even a glimpse of that reaction out of me. I felt so embarrassed and just so... _stupid_.

I rushed down the hallway and to the elevator. I smashed my palm against the down button a few times anxiously and stepped back. I couldn't keep still; I needed to leave. I started running my hands through my hair and teeter back and forth as I waited. I had to keep it together, it was still possible any one of them would come after me and see me crying.

"Shit, come on!" I spat, slamming hand on the button again. Not a second later, there was a ding and the elevator to my right lit up to signify it had arrived. I rushed towards it, not thinking that I should wait to see if it was occupied. I staggered forward as the doors started to slide open, and crashed right into Santana.

"Britt!" she exclaimed in surprise. She was smiling for a split-second until I recovered my balance and threw my arms around her. She nearly dropped her sunglasses, but I felt her arms tighten around me as she stepped out of the elevator and guided me back a few steps.

"What's wrong? Britt?" I heard her voice, but I was too focused on just staying grounded. I felt like my legs were going to cave in on me, and I was doing everything I could just to hold on to her. I didn't even know what she was doing here, but I don't know how I would have made it another step further without her.

"Shh, it's okay," she cooed, and I realized I was sobbing. Violently. She pressed her hand to the back of my head and let me cry against her shoulder. I felt her shift her head back and forth. "Is there a study lounge or a classroom we can go into?" She spoke so softly and I barely heard her. I nodded and tried to say something, but it came out all garbled and weird.

She didn't wait for me to try and speak again, she just gripped me tightly and led me down the hallway. She immediately found one of the empty, smaller studio rooms and pulled me in and shut the door behind us. The moment we were alone, my knees finally gave out and I felt myself slip to the floor. She knelt down quickly and just held me in a surprisingly strong embrace.

Santana shuffled so that she could sit properly and pull me into her lap. I continued to grip onto her like my life depended on it, but I had stopped sobbing uncontrollably. She ran her fingers up and down my arm and leaned down to kiss my forehead as tears continued to slowly roll their way out of my eyeballs. I started to worry that I was being gross, but I couldn't make myself push away from her to wipe my face. Then I noticed that I expected her to be singing or humming, but she wasn't. She just held me close to her, and I realized my ear was pressed to her chest and all I could hear her heart. Maybe she wasn't singing because she knew that the sound of her heartbeat was just as much a song to me.

"S-san...t-ana," I stammered. I knew she had to be terribly confused. The longer I sat there and cried and didn't say anything, the more worried she would get. I had to do something. She stopped rubbing my arm and leaned back a little. Her hand met my face and she gently wiped some of my tears away.

"No, just breathe, okay?" she said softly. "We'll talk. I can wait. Just breathe."

There she was again. She was content with just waiting and being there for me. How could anyone be so perfect and sweet and kind? I did as I was told, but with renewed effort. I had to calm down and focus. She deserved an answer. For what was wrong, for why I was crying, for why I wouldn't give her the kisses she wanted. I clenched my eyes tightly and felt a few more tears roll out, but I was determined to stop. It took me several minutes, but with Santana returning her tickling fingers up and down my arm and the sound and feel of her heartbeat against my ear, I was able to breathe somewhat normally again.

"I'm sorry, S-santana," I said, pulling back a little. She kept her hand on my back and slid her other hand up my arm to keep me steady.

"No apologies," she commanded sternly. "You didn't do anything wrong to me."

"B-but I have," I shook my head and gently moved my hand to grab her hand on my shoulder. "I've been s-so sc-scared. About us k-kissing. A-and that I-I'd have to m-move out. And that Quinn and R-rachel and T-T-Tina... that they'd hate me. And... I work wi-with Mike! S-santana. I c-can't... I d-don't want to r-ruin it."

"Brittany," she said, much more serious. It wasn't so soft, but still somehow encouraging. "What are you...? That's not... Why are you crying?"

"I-I'm so s-" I shook my head. "So s-s... s-stupid. I-I thought talking t-to Mad-ison w-would help, b-but then... S-santana, none of them a-are my f-friends." I buried my face into her shoulder. She jerked back a little in surprise, but then slowly placed her hands on my back again.

"T-they think I s-sleep around, a-and tha... that I-I'm a...a-"

"Stop," she said firmly. She pried me away from her and gripped my shoulders tightly. I blinked away newly formed tears as she stared at me.

"Don't you dare think that _anyone_ has the right to label you," she said. There was a hint of rage in her voice. I knew it wasn't directed at me, but she looked pissed. "You're not _stupid_. And you're definitely not anything else they insinuated about you.

"Someone that's so concerned about a _kiss_ isn't someone that's throwing their body around like it's not worth anything," she growled. I sniffled and nodded slowly, hoping that maybe my understanding would make her less angry.

"You're special," she said. "And important. And what the hell were you talking about - moving out? Where on earth would you get an idea like that?"

"I don't... I don't want to start something that will end up with you hating me," I said. After all the nice things she'd just said about me, it sounded terribly silly to admit. "And if you stop liking me, I wouldn't be able to live in your apartment anymore."

"_Our_ apartment," Santana corrected. "You're under the same roommate contract as I am, Brittany. And Quinn and Rachel would be pissed at me if I stopped liking you."

"But they're your friends-"

"Britt, what?" Santana shook her head. She sounded frustrated. "No, Britt they like you too. Everyone likes you. Who the hell are those bitches that said shit about you? Screw them. Ugh... Brittany..."

Santana slipped her hands away from me and sat back a little. She looked about as confused as I'd been feeling the past few days. Like she wanted to say more but she didn't know what to say. I didn't want her to start being confused. If we were both confused, then I don't think we'd ever figure this out.

"I just... you fit... so well with... us," she struggled to say. "Please tell me you understand that? I don't want you to think we don't care about you."

I stared up at her timidly. I knew what she was saying was true; she wouldn't lie to me. I felt foolish for even thinking that I would be kicked out of the apartment if Santana and I couldn't figure each other out. I had just been so scared.

"I understand," I nodded slowly. "I was scared. B-because of the way things turned out with Jenna. And then seeing how much everyone cares about you... I felt like I was intruding."

"I get that," Santana said, slowly wiggling her fingers beneath my palms and gripping my hands tightly in hers. "But I promise you, I'm never going to steal your rent money or your mattress."

I laughed. Once I did, she did too. She brought my hands up to her lips and kissed them gently and I giggled more. I threw my arms around her and pressed our foreheads together.

"I actually think we have too many mattresses right now," I said softly, gazing at her as we got over our silent fit of giggles.

"And after all that work I put into getting it for you," she sighed. "That's such a waste, Bri-"

I inched forward and closed the distance between us, sufficiently cutting her off from scolding me as my lips met hers. I felt her smile and she pressed harder against me. I had to pull back after a moment to breathe.

"I can still keep the mattress, right?" I asked. She laughed and pulled me by my waist into a tickle. I shrieked and fell backwards.

"You...are...so...lucky...you're...cute," she said between pauses of tickling me and dodging my attempts push her away.

"Stop! Stop! Please! Ahh!" I cried.

* * *

><p>"Why did you come to my school today?" I asked, sitting at the kitchen counter on my designated swivel chair. I decided I should just make it mine, since I was always sitting in it.<p>

"Oh, I wanted to drop by and take you to lunch... since last week, Quinn stole you before I could get to you," Santana said. She was standing at the stove, making us grilled cheese. It was way past lunch time, but we were both starving.

"How did you get into the building? You need to be signed in or have an ID card," I said, taking a bite out of the grilled cheese she'd already made.

"I can be very convincing," she winked.

"Did you flash the guard?" I asked seriously. She gasped and quickly threw an oven mitt at me.

"I can't believe you'd suggest that," she said. Her tone of voice sounded like she was feigning being offended, so I wasn't sure if she had or hadn't actually flashed the guard.

"Seriously, what did you do?"

"I have my ways," she shrugged, turning around and placing the freshly made grilled cheese on the plate in front of me. "Save some for me, you pig!"

"Nope," I grinned and snatched the plate. "Not till you tell me how you got passed the guard."

She stretched her hand out to try and grab the plate, but I was too quick for her. I grabbed the grilled cheese sandwich and took a huge bite out of it. She growled, but then her mouth curved into a smirk. She leaned against the counter, propping her chin up with her arm, the other hand that held the spatula placed at her hip.

"If I flash _you_, will you stop eating all of our lunch?" she said, raising a brow. I nearly choked. She started laughing and turned back to the stove. I was so red in the face.

"I just slipped in with another group of students," she admitted as she threw another sandwich into the frying pan.

"That's significantly less interesting," I frowned. She turned back at me and rose a brow.

"Did you really expect me to just flash my tits around to just anyone?"

"So I guess that means it was an empty threat," I said with a smirk and took another bite from the grilled cheese in my hands. This time she looked embarrassed.

* * *

><p>Santana and I finished lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon laying on the couch watching re-runs of this television show I'd never heard of. She was appalled that I'd gone through the my whole life not having seen an episode of Sweet Valley High. She spent half the first episode we watched explaining who the characters were. I tried my best to follow, but all I really cared about was that she was snuggled up against me and let me play with her hair.<p>

When Quinn came home, Santana sat up and put a little distance between us. Not too much, but I noticed. Quinn was too flustered, I think, to realize we'd been cuddling on the couch. She said that her job had called her in for a shift, and Santana mocked her for having to go into work while she got to call out.

"Why did you ask for the day off?" Quinn said quizzically as she opened the refrigerator. "You never take off."

"Because Brittany has never seen Sweet Valley High," Santana said defensively. "That's a crime in at least fifteen states."

"I can't believe she's making you watch that show," Quinn said sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

"Take your hate and get out of my face," Santana said, brandishing the remote control in the air. I laughed and shook my head.

"I don't mind," I shrugged. I really had no idea what was going on in this show, but I really didn't care.

"Well, if you guys are going to keep watching that, I'm going to go upstairs and find something more productive to do."

"And by productive, do you mean self-serving?" Santana cracked.

"Oh, shut up, Santana, I meant read a book," Quinn scowled as she started up the stairs.

"Oh, yeah right," Santana laughed. "You've been single for three years, there's no way you don't have one."

"You're so... Ugh!" Quinn stormed up the stairs, too flustered to keep arguing. I was literally rolling with laughter, and Santana smacked my knee as she doubled over, nearly crashing into the coffee table.

"I hate you two!" she shouted from upstairs. We heard the door slam, and I sat up a little.

"Is she really mad?" I asked.

"She won't be in a few minutes," she said, still laughing. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding, no, she's fine."

"You're ruthless," I giggled.

"In bed," she laughed and slapped my thigh as she winked.

"Wanky," I smirked. She sucked in a breath and held it. I wasn't sure if she was embarrassed or just surprised. Maybe it was a little of both.

"Heh," she managed to huff out and turned to the TV to turn it off. I tilted my head to the side. Didn't we have another million episodes of high school drama to watch?

"Do you want some hot cocoa?" she asked. She stood up abruptly and walked towards the kitchen.

"Um," I paused and looked at the blank television screen. I looked up and saw that she had opened the pantry. She was standing in the doorway and immediately grabbed the cocoa container and held it out in front of her. Her eyes were wide and she was acting skittish. She looked at me eagerly for a response, and when I didn't offer one, she looked down at the cocoa container.

"I was thinking we could watch a movie or something," she said quickly. She looked over to me in the living room and then over to the stairs. "Like, in my room?"

"You don't have a TV," I said quietly. I had been in her room enough times to have noticed otherwise. I stood up and walked into the kitchen, returning to my chair.

"We can watch something on my laptop," she said, quietly. She took a step towards the kitchen island and towards me. I smiled.

"Okay," I said shyly. Her suggestion caught me so off guard. She seemed a little less anxious when I agreed and she spun around to grab two mugs out of the cabinet. I walked over and closed the pantry and started to try and help her make the hot cocoa. She kept fidgeting and would smack my hand gently whenever I reached in to grab a mug or a spoon. It took all the willpower I had not to tickle her or hug her, because she was being really cute. I sat back down in my chair and waited, swiveling quietly back and forth.

She finished making our hot cocoa, and I had to admit, I was impressed. There must be some secret training bar tenders had that made them a genius at making any kind of drink, even if it wasn't alcoholic. Santana hadn't just warmed up water in the microwave and stirred packaged powder in it quickly to produce a pale rendition of what hot cocoa was supposed to be. She had pulled out an array of ingredients from the pantry and started to boil milk in a pot on the stove. The end result was a slightly orange-tinged, brown and frothy liquid topped with whipped cream and chocolate flakes. It looked so good. I was too eager to wait for it to cool. The moment she slid my mug towards me, I scooped it into my hands and took a big gulp.

"Wait, Britt-" she called out a second too late. I regretted the action immediately. The hot liquid stung my tongue and I regrettably allowed myself to swallow, forcing the burning cocoa down my throat. I quickly set the mug on the counter and coughed, too distracted by the scorching pain to realize my nose was covered in whipped cream.

"Oh, gosh, Britt," Santana giggled and stepped around the corner of the kitchen island to my side. After I stopped coughing, I made a small pout as I looked up at her.

"I burn' my 'ongue," I mumbled pathetically and shifted in my seat. She laughed and took a step towards me.

"I can see that," she said, raising her hand and running her finger against the tip of my nose and wiped off the whipped cream. My eyes must have bugged out a bit when she licked her finger. We giggled for a second until she leaned closer to me. Her legs pressed up against my knees and she looked suddenly very serious.

"Does it hurt?" she all but whispered.

I nodded slowly, keeping my eyes trained on hers.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I can... kiss it better?" She blushed furiously and lowered her gaze from mine. My heart started pounding in my throat.

"P-please," I somehow managed gasped out. She reacted immediately, and suddenly her lips crashed against mine. I was so glad I wasn't holding the hot cocoa anymore, because I would have spilt it all over us as I grabbed the sides of her face to pull her closer. I knew I was eager, but I couldn't resist. Her hands slipped up and behind my head, digging into my hair as she sucked on my lower lip. All the built up tension of not kissing all week had found its way into this kiss. I tilted my head to the side and I felt something soft and wet brush my lip. I smiled and giggled at the touch. Santana started giggling too, and pulled away a little.

"Sorry," she murmured. "Is this okay?"

"Definitely," I grinned, leaning forward again. A clatter from the stairs made us pull back, and I spun my head in time to see Lord Tubbington tearing down the steps.

"Ugh," Quinn's voice came from the top of the stairs. She stumbled down, holding Lord Tubbington's food bowl in her hand.

"Brittany, where do you keep his food?" she asked as she stepped down to the bottom of the stairs. I squirmed in my seat and rustled my hair. I was pretty sure Santana had messed it up, so I ruffled it to hide the evidence. She had hopped about a foot away from me and was biting her lip nervously as she leaned back against the counter. I pointed past the kitchen to the laundry room. Quinn looked between us and rolled her eyes when she saw the hot cocoa mugs on the counter.

"Really? You could have offered to make me some," she mumbled. I noticed Santana exhale as Quinn passed us to the laundry room.

"I wasn't about to interrupt you and your _reading_," Santana shot back.

"Your cat eats too much, Brittany," I heard Quinn call out, ignoring Santana's remark.

"But he's on Atkins," I frowned. Santana rose her mug to her lips and paused to stare at me. I winked at her.

"That... doesn't make any sense," Quinn said, reappearing from the laundry room with a full bowl of cat food.

"I think Lord Tubbington should eat people food," I said with a shrug.

"Yeah, 'cause that cat needs a more balanced diet," Santana nodded matter-of-factly.

"You guys are weird," Quinn said, peering at Santana and then at me before turning away.

"We're not the ones _reading_ and feeding kitty cats," Santana hollered back at her. Quinn picked up the nearest object, in her case, the remote, and turned around and smacked Santana hard across her arm.

"Bitch, no you didn't!" Santana shouted. Quinn was already across the living room by the time Santana had set her mug down.

"Yeah, you better run," she scowled, raising a hand threateningly towards the stairs. Quinn had disappeared and we were alone again.

"You two are funny," I observed and pushed my mug around on the counter. "Is Rachel home?"

"I don't think so," Santana shook her head. "She texted me earlier complaining about an emergency theater rehearsal. Like I give a shit."

"You do, though," I smiled. "You act like you don't care, but if she hadn't told you where she was, you'd be worried."

Santana paused and stared at me.

"Mm, you're right," Santana hummed quietly. She took a sip from her mug.

"Will she be home soon?"

"Probably," she said and glanced at the door. "How about that movie, then?"

She grabbed my hand before I could respond, and I had to pull her back so I could grab my cocoa.

"Hold on, this looks too good to leave behind!" I said and grabbed her mug and shoved it in her free hand. She didn't seem to care about the cocoa anymore. She was more insistent on dragging me up to her room.

"Santana," I laughed as I sat down on her bed. She closed the door behind her and hopped over to me. I had to take her mug from her so she wouldn't spill it. She leaned in quickly and pressed her lips to mine before I could set the drinks down. I hummed a protest as she kept inching closer to me and finally had to tear away from her completely.

"Wait, wait," I smiled. I pushed her mug back into her hands. "What about that movie?"

"Mm," she shrugged before taking a long sip of her cocoa. "What about your tongue? Is it better yet?"

I scrapped my tongue against the roof of my mouth, and she laughed as I considered her question seriously.

"Yeah, it's okay now," I nodded and raised my mug to my lips. She sighed, and I grinned into my drink. I think she was disappointed. She sat up and went to grab her laptop.

"What do you want to watch?" she asked.

"-this is delicious!" I said, ignoring her question. I hadn't been able to properly taste it before. All the whipped cream was gone now, but it tasted really good. Maybe there was cinnamon in it. I wasn't sure.

"It'd probably taste even better if you hadn't burnt your tongue on it," she said, sticking out her own tongue and winking. She crawled onto the bed next to me and set her laptop in front of us.

"So come on, what do you want to watch?" she asked, scooting closer to me. I snuggled up against her and continued to sip the hot cocoa.

"I dunno," I shrugged. "No more Sweet Valley High, please."

"You didn't like it?" she asked, looking a little sad.

"It was good, it's just hard to follow. What movies do you have?

"Not the Little Mermaid," she said, scrunching her nose at me.

"Sha la la la la la, my oh my," I laughed and turned away from her to set my mug down. I felt her arms creep around my back and pull me closer. When I looked back at her, I met her dark brown eyes that had an impossible to read expression on them.

"Go on and...kiss the gi-" I stammered before she lowered and kissed me again. Without a mug in my hands or the worry that Quinn or Lord Tubbington would stumble upon us, Santana was being a lot bolder with her actions. Her tongue ran across my lips until I parted them. She twisted out from underneath me and snaked her arms around me so that she could gently lean me against her pillow. Her tongue skated across mine and caused me to moan. I wrapped my hands around her neck, wriggling as she continued to press down on me with her weight. I think I was moving too much, because she suddenly pulled back, her hand snapping to catch her laptop before it fell of the bed.

"God damn it," she grumbled, swinging her leg over me to stand. She hastily grabbed her laptop, shut it, and tore it into the air to swing the cord along with it. She placed it on her desk and then looked back at me. She looked so frustrated, it was cute. I sat up a little, lifting my arm above my head and winking at her. She smirked, and crawled back onto the bed. As she moved over me, she stopped again and looked next to me. I followed her gaze and laughed as I saw her grab Jeremy and throw him across the room. I'd forgotten I'd left him in here.

"Why did you do that? He didn't do anything to you," I giggled.

She crouched over me and whispered, "No more interruptions," before she drew her lips to mine again. The way she said it was super sexy. She pressed her whole body against me and I tangled my fingers into her hair. She held herself up with one arm as not to put all her weight on me, but her other hand started to tickle down my side. I giggled and licked at her lips. Her mouth parted and met my tongue again with hers. We laid like that a while, both of us struggling to gain dominance in the kiss. She shifted, pressing her leg between my thighs, and I whimpered my submission. She smirked, delving her tongue deeper into my mouth as her hands racked against my sides and eventually rested on my thighs. I dragged my own hands down a little, digging them into her back as she started to grind her hips down into me.

"Santana...!" My gasp was muffled by her lips. Her hands drew up to my face, pulling me in closer, if that were even possible. I felt her moan hum against my mouth as she continued to rock into me. I felt my own hips try to match her movements and she broke away to kiss down my jaw. Her tongue felt soft and smooth against my skin, and eventually she found her way down to my neck. She moved to base of my neck, interchanging between kisses and soft little bites that made my head so fuzzy I couldn't think straight.

I inhaled sharply as the friction between us increased. It was driving me insane that there was so much clothes among us. But I was terrified of doing anything to stop this, even for a second. She stopped kissing my neck and drew back up to my lips. She gave me a long, soft, deep kiss. She shifted, pressing her leg against me harder. I groaned, and she broke from the kiss. Her forehead rested against mine, and I opened my eyes wearily to look up at her. Her eyes were clenched tightly closed and she was panting heavily.

I pressed my hands into her back so that I could feel her chest against mine. Her heart was beating so hard and fast, I was scared maybe something was wrong. I rose my lips to hers and tried to be as gentle as possible. I gave her sweet and soft kisses to reassure her, to hopefully calm her down.

"Britt," she breathed noisily. I sat up a little and caught her mouth in mine again. She tried to press into me, but she didn't have much strength behind her movements. I lifted my hand to her cheek and lowered my other to her waist, and in a swift but gentle movement, I flipped her onto her back. She tried to protest, but I held her still by pressing down on her lips. I didn't do anything more than that, just kissed her. After a few seconds, she sighed into the kiss and I felt her relax beneath me. I lifted up and tucked my hair behind my ear and smiled at her. She looked so sleepy and tame, it was hard to think that a few moments before she'd be attacking my neck.

"Hey," she said softly, raising her hand to my cheek. I leaned into it.

"Hey, yourself," I said. She smiled and let her hand fall away from my face. I grabbed it and held it close to me as I snuggled up against her.

"...Brittany," she sighed, nuzzling her nose against mine. I smiled and kissed her again.

"Yes, Santana?"

"What are you... what are you doing tomorrow?" She was having a hard time keeping her eyes open.

"I don't have any plans tomorrow," I admitted.

"Good," she muttered. "Don't make any."

"Why's that?" I asked, tucking my arm around her and pulling her closer.

"You'll... find out... tomorrow..." she yawned. I giggled.

"Tell me," I pleaded quietly. She shook her head lazily. She was quiet for a while, and I thought she fell asleep.

"Britt..." she said, interruptting the silence of her room.

"Yeah?"

"Just making sure you were still here," she mumbled.

"I'm not going anywhere," I said softly.

**_A/N: So, this chapter is the longest one yet, but I don't think any of you mind that. So here's a tid-bit of information for you - hot chocolate and on was supposed to be in Chapter 13 (minus a few adjustments and changes I made), but I post-poned it because my beta said Brittany and Santana needed more time to figure out what their first kiss meant. I couldn't cut it completely, though, because Santana using Brittany's burned tongue as an excuse to make out with her was too cute. Also, I spent so much time freaking out over whether I could even write them being the least bit sexy with one another, it would be a shame to delete it._**

**_The song Brittany dances to is:_**

**_No Doubt - Spiderwebs - .com/watch?v=x99LBOgmpFI_**

**_Sometimes I wish I could leave in my commentary that I leave for my Beta (or the commentary she makes). Because I crack up at little things I write, which sounds conceeded, but I'm sitting here writing them making out and Brittany's like "...soft little bites that made my head so fuzzy I couldn't think straight," and I'm laughing like, "That's cause you're not." Am I the only one? Okay. Bad joke. I also really like using 'Wanky' whenever possible. Poor Santana, Britt made her really frustrated._**

**_EDIT: Also, to ParadoxTriceratops - Yes! I did do some research on the food for the last chapter. :) I'm glad you noticed. And I really want to try some of the things Santana cooks in this story. Like the hot cocoa in this chapter - what. It looks delicious. _**


	16. Under the Cover of Darkness

"Why aren't you getting ready for dance?" Quinn was sitting at the dining table with a bowl of cereal in front of her. Santana shuffled in, wearing an over-sized NYU hoodie over her pajamas. Her hair was a bit messy and she was wearing glasses she never usually wore.

"Not going," she mumbled, lifting her arm to open the cabinet. Her movements were sloth-like, and Quinn held her spoon up to her open mouth as she watched Santana fumble around and eventually pull out a bowl.

"Here, Santana," Rachel said from the kitchen, pulling out a box from the pantry and handing it to the slow-moving Latina about five times faster than it would have taken her to grab on her own. She blinked wearily and stared at the box of Cap'n Crunch: Crunch Berries for a moment. After she appeared to read the text on the box, she nodded contently and poured it into the bowl.

"...and why, exactly, are you not going?"

"Skipping," Santana shrugged. Even that movement was slow.

"Why are you so tired?" Rachel asked, leaning against the counter top as Santana dragged herself towards the refrigerator, still holding the bowl clasped in her hands. Rachel turned her head to follow Santana and watched curiously as she fumbled with the milk carton and pour it.

"Yeah, you didn't even go to work yesterday," Quinn added.

"She didn't?" Rachel looked across the kitchen to the dining table at Quinn and then shot her gaze back at Santana. "Why didn't you go to work?"

"I didn't feel like it," Santana sighed, returning the milk to its place on the door.

"Are you feeling alright?" Rachel asked.

"...can we stop with the twenty questions?" Santana grumbled and made her way to the dining table. She dropped the bowl on the table and sat down before she realized she'd forgotten a spoon. She groaned loudly and stared sadly at the cereal in front of her. Rachel snapped up and grabbed a spoon from the utensil drawer and bustled over to give it to her. Santana gave a weak half smile of appreciation.

Quinn exchanged a glance with Rachel, and the brunette pursed her lips. She turned away swiftly and made her way towards the stairwell, disappearing moments later.

"Gonna stop being cranky and tell me what's going on?" Quinn said, taking a bite of her own cereal.

"No," Santana said and shoved her spoon in her mouth.

* * *

><p>"Brittany?" Rachel's voice came from just outside the bathroom door. I leaned back and peered through the crack while holding my hair-straightener up.<p>

"Yeah?" I called out, and after a second, she pushed open the door. She looked me up and down and tilted her head to the side.

"Are you going somewhere?" she asked. I glanced at myself in the mirror. Maybe I had dressed up too much? Santana told me that she was taking me somewhere, but she hadn't told me where exactly, so I wanted to look nice.

"Uh." I looked back to Rachel in the mirror. "Santana and I are hanging out today."

"Oh?" Rachel looked out of the bathroom towards the hallway. "Is that why she's not going to dance?"

"Oh... um," I frowned.

_"Santana," I said in a sing-song voice. She wiggled her nose at me and pretended to keep sleeping. I squeezed her shoulder and placed my hand under her chin to lift it. She smiled and I leaned forward and pressed my lips on her nose. "Santana..."_

_"Yes?" she said quietly as her eyes fluttered open. _

_"My arm is asleep," I said, wiggling my fingers against her back. Her smile faded into a small pout._

_"I'm sorry," she murmured and slowly shifted so I could untuck my arm from underneath her. I moved it to rest above her head and she snuggled into my side._

_"Don't be," I assured her, even though now that my arm was free, it was tingling even more. I tried my best to ignore it as I ran my numb fingers through her hair. "It's almost 8 o' clock. Should I go to my own room?"_

_"What? No, don't go," Santana wriggled her arms around me and held on tightly. I laughed and strained to press a kiss on her forehead. _

_"You have dance class soon," I said. _

_"No," she whined. "I don't want to go."_

_"Santana, you can't skip out on stuff just to stay in bed a little longer," I said. "It's not like we can't do this later."_

_"But..." she started, sliding her hand down to pick playfully at the covers. "We were going to go out and do stuff today."_

_"Oh?" I sat up a little. She quickly clung onto me so that she moved up with me. _

_"I thought that would be after your dance class," I said. She shook her head and timidly stared up at me. _

_"I suppose I could just help you make up the lesson later," I shrugged lightly. _

_"Yes, exactly," she grinned. "More private dance lessons, Ms. Pierce."_

_I laughed and pulled her forward to give her a light kiss on the lips. She pressed into me, twisting to sit up more, and her hands found their way to my neck. I pulled away and started to giggle when she grunted in frustration._

_"-all the more reason for me to leave then," I said, patting her leg as I squeezed out from underneath her._

_"What?" She looked at me, surprised, as I leaned down and grabbed the empty mugs of cocoa from her headboard. I smirked at her and kissed her forehead. She shrunk a bit and continued to pout. _

_"I've got to get ready, don't I? If we're going on this mystery adventure. When are we leaving?" I paused at her window, struggling to unlatch it with one hand._

_"Hmm," she flopped forward onto her stomach, facing me with her head towards the end of the bed. "Maybe around 10 or so, so we have time to grab lunch when we get there." She looked really sleepy still, but at least she wasn't pouting anymore._

_"Okay. I'm going to go out for a run then. You go back to sleep for a bit."_

_"I can't," she groaned, planting her face down on the mattress. She wriggled her hands in the air over the edge of the bed towards me and kicked her feet up and down. I laughed and turned around, walking to the corner of the room and grabbing our purple stuffed friend and placed it in her outstretched arms. She looked up and stared at Jeremy and frowned._

_"He can keep you company until I get back," I laughed._

_"I don't want to cuddle Jeremy," she grumbled and tossed him on the ground. He landed a few feet in front of her. _

_"Your loss, it's either him or no one," I shrugged and went back to the window. She kept her face buried against the mattress as she waved weakly at me._

_"Fine, go on, leave me like this to die. Alone forever," she groaned dramatically. I rolled my eyes._

_"You're not going to die, Santana," I paused. "I can get Lord Tubbington?"_

_"Get out," she growled. I laughed and climbed through her window. I glanced back and saw her scramble forward and snatch Jeremy off the ground._

"Yeah, um," I paused. It had become terribly difficult for me to talk to Quinn and Rachel in regards to Santana ever since we kissed. I never knew what I was supposed to say, and I was pretty sure Santana didn't want them to know we were cuddling and kissing as much as I didn't want them to know. I pulled my hair straightener down through the rest of the strand it was gripping and set it on the counter. I turned to face Rachel instead of looking at her in the mirror.

"I had kind of a rough day yesterday," I explained as casually as possible. "I think Santana just wants to help get it off my mind."

"Oh? Are you okay?" Rachel asked. "What happened?"

"I didn't do well in my repertory class. It's bad, cause I had to work really hard to get special permission to join it, since I'm a Junior," I said quietly. It was true, but I didn't really want to relive my classmates saying things about me by re-explaining it to Rachel.

"Juilliard is really competitive, isn't it?" Rachel nodded. She seemed to understand without me having to say much more. I realized that her program at NYADA was probably just as prestigious.

"It is," I nodded. "It'll be okay, as long as my mid-term performance goes over smoothly."

"It's really sweet of Santana to look out for you, like that. It explains why she called out of work yesterday."

"Yeah," I nodded. I didn't really know what else to say. I didn't know how to explain why Santana was so nice to me, because even though I liked her, I didn't really know why she liked me. Maybe I should just ask her. "I'm so glad I got to move in."

"We are too," Rachel smiled. She looked back at the hallway. "Actually, I came up here to ask if you wouldn't mind coming downstairs."

"Why?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.

"I think Santana's irritated. Normally, it's fine, but when she's like this in the morning, it's best to avoid her completely," Rachel frowned. I couldn't help but laugh. Santana was grumpy when she woke up. I knew that. But I was pretty sure I'd figured out how to fix that. Although, giving her light mouse kisses wasn't going to go over well in front of Rachel and Quinn.

"I didn't even know she was awake yet," I said and reached to unplug my hair straightener. I turned and looked at myself in the mirror and lightly fluffed my hair before turning around and brushing past Rachel and flicking the light off.

* * *

><p>"-it's part of a well balanced breakfast, it says right on the box!"<p>

"It does not, look," Quinn said, holding up the box of Cap'n Crunch to Santana. She angrily threw her spoon back into the bowl.

"Well fine, then it says it in the commercial. Whatever, Fabray, I can eat whatever the hell I want for breakfast!"

"I was just saying you should _try_ to eat something more healthy," Quinn sighed.

"Just 'cause you eat grainy fiberized wheat cubes and a grapefruit for breakfast doesn't mean you're queen of healthy eating. I'ma eats mah cap'n crunch and you ain't gonna say two shits about it," Santana scowled. Quinn rolled her eyes and scooted back out of her chair just as I was stepping down the last step of the stairwell. She met my gaze and shook her head, flicking her wrist at Santana and shrugging. I made my way into the kitchen and stopped just behind my swivel chair.

"At least she's making full sentences now," Quinn grumbled as she passed me. I looked over to Santana, who straightened up and opened her mouth to make another remark at Quinn, but froze when I met her gaze. I rose my brow and cocked my head to the side. She closed her mouth and looked sheepishly down at her bowl. Satisfied she decided to hold her tongue, I turned to Quinn and smiled.

"I love Captain Crunch," I said, snatching the box out of her hands. As I went to grab a bowl, I noticed Santana was smiling brightly, and I winked at her.

"See? Dance diva eats it," Santana said, gesturing to me. "Gots to mean something."

"Oh no, it's got so much sugar in it," I shook my head. "I'm like, so glad I'm not a ballerina."

I squeezed into a chair next to Santana after I'd poured my bowl of milk and cereal. She frowned at me momentarily, looking a little surprised I had counteracted her argument.

"I'm not a health food snob," I said, shoveling a spoonful into my mouth. "But ma' sure it's not the on'y thing you ea' to'ay."

"Deal," Santana said, her smile returning to her face. I looked up and saw Quinn staring at the both of us with the same puzzled look she had when we were teasing her yesterday. Like she wanted to say something, but she wasn't sure if she knew what to think, let alone form words.

"Quinn, are you ready?" Rachel asked, stepping into the kitchen, one arm through her jacket sleeve.

"Yeah, I'm just..." Quinn said, pausing as she stared at Santana. I looked over to see if Santana noticed, but she was too busy focusing on her cereal. She was fishing out the colored bits of the cereal meant to look like berries. She looked over at me and caught my gaze and smiled. I wiggled my nose and poked her glasses.

"I didn't know you wore glasses," I said. Santana's eyes bugged and she quickly snatched them off her face.

"I don't, what are you talking about?" she said quickly. She smiled timidly and went back to poking at her cereal.

"-right," Quinn said, shuffling past Rachel and walking to the living room. She opened the coat closet and fished out her jacket, all the while keeping her eyes on Santana. I glanced over at her and Rachel, but tried to keep my focus on Santana.

"...think something is weird...?" I heard Quinn whisper.

"You shouldn't have tried talking to her so early," Rachel said, catching her scarf that Quinn tossed at her.

"But like, immediately, when Brittany walked in-"

"That's why I went to get her."

"I just don't get it," Quinn grumbled. "Seven years... known her... and yet... weeks!"

"Stop complaining. If it works, don't try to fix it," Rachel said, shoving Quinn towards the door from behind. Rachel looked up and caught my gaze. I smiled and she smiled back, waving goodbye before closing the door. I looked down at Santana again, and she looked like she'd fallen back asleep. I nudged her, and she snapped up.

"What?" she barked in surprise.

"Are you sure you still want to go out today?" I asked. She straightened and looked around the room quickly.

"Did they leave already?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

"I do, I do," she said, running her hand through her hair. "I just need coffee or something."

"I can make some," I said and scooted out of my chair. I leaned down and gave her a light kiss on the forehead. "But only if you put your glasses back on."

"I don't wear glasses!" she protested.

"They're cute," I said. She smiled sheepishly, and I waved my hand in front of her face. "Can you even see me?"

"I'm not blind," she growled. I reached down while she was distracted and snatched her glasses out of her hand and then placed them gently on her face. She scrunched her nose, forcing the glasses up a little on the bridge, and I laughed. I leaned down and turned her chin up at me with my hand.

"Also, sexy," I whispered, catching her lips in mine. She let out a little gasp and I smirked into the kiss.

* * *

><p>"Can I open this?" I pointed to the roof of Santana's car. It had taken her another thirty minutes to get ready, and that was after she'd had her coffee. She glanced at me from beneath her sunglasses and then returned her focus on the road.<p>

"No, it's cold," she shook her head.

"But Santana, I've never ridden in a car with the roof down," I pleaded. I pulled my leg up off the ground and tucked it underneath me so I could turn to fully look at her. She glanced back at me, sighed, and rolled her eyes as she stretched her hand forward to flip the switch that opened the roof. I gasped and watched gleefully as the roof started to fall back and the wind surrounding the car flooded in.

"Ugh, I spent so much time on my hair, too," she grumbled. I wiggled in my seat as the roof went down completely and leaned forward to the radio.

"It looks super hot," I said, a little louder now because of all the wind. I punched the button to the radio with my index finger and then twisted the knob to crank up the volume.

"Hey, don't touch," she said, smacking my hand as I went to change the channel.

"Fine, you pick a station," I said, pulling my hand back defensively. She reached forward again and started to flip through channels.

"Oh, oh, go back," I said eagerly. "Please?"

"To this?" she asked. I didn't recognize the song, but it sounded really fun.

"Yes!" I said and started to wiggle more in my seat.

"I didn't take you to be a fan of The Strokes," she said. I shrugged.

"Who?"

"This song - okay, nevermind," she laughed as I started to wave my arms in the air. It was hard to, because of the seat belt, but I was doing my best to dance along. "You can't not dance, can you?"

"Yes I can!" I shouted, disproving my point as I shook back and forth. Suddenly, the car jerked, making the seat belt tighten its hold on me and pulling me back into my seat, and I heard a horn honk from behind us. Santana angrily flipped her middle finger at the mirror.

"Sorry!" I squeaked. I didn't mean to distract her while she was driving.

"Whatever," she said, turning the volume up. She grinned at me. "I'll wait for youuuu!"

"Will youu wait for meeee, tooo?" we sang together. I sat back into my seat properly as she sang more of the words to the song. I was envious she knew so many songs and also knew all the words. I joined in on the last verse of the chorus, having heard it enough to know some of the words. She stretched her hand over and linked her pinkie with mine as we laughed out the last bit of the song.

"Where are we going?" I asked, turning down the volume so I could hear better.

"You'll see," she smiled.

"Why won't you just tell me?"

"It's a surprise," she said "Besides, we're like, almost there."

I glanced at the road to see if any of the signs would give it away. I had no idea where we were. I gave a frustrated grunt and leaned my cheek into my palm as I propped my elbow against the side door. She laughed at me and turned the corner, and a huge building appeared, revealing our location.

"The Aquarium?" I bolted upright, again pulled back by the seat belt. She squeezed my pinkie and I looked up at her. She was grinning brightly and it made me so so happy. I had always wanted to go to the aquarium, but it was so far away and I didn't have a car. Plus, I never had anyone to go with. Santana was exactly the person I would want to go to the aquarium with.

"I figured you'd like this," she said after I had calmed down a bit and she pulled into the parking lot. "What with you loving the The Little Mermaid and all."

"This is going to be so much fun, Santana!" I cheered. The moment the car was parked, I unbuckled and raced out of the car. She shouted at me to wait, because she had to put the roof up. I jumped up and down and ran around to her side of the car while I waited anxiously.

"Hurry, Santana," I whined. Once the roof was up, she gave a quick glance at herself in her mirror and flicked her hand through her hair before turning the car off and stepping out to join me.

"Come on!" I said, running towards the entrance. She laughed and locked her car and walked behind me. I stopped abruptly and spun around to run back to her. I should walk with her. I was so excited about the aquarium, but I wanted to enjoy it with Santana. I linked my arm into hers and pressed my head against her shoulder. I was taller, so it made walking a little awkward, but she laughed anyway.

* * *

><p>Santana wouldn't let me pay for my ticket. I would have argued with her, but we were already at the counter, and I didn't want to make a scene. I secretly decided I would just pay for lunch, because I didn't want her to think I was mooching off her. We managed to find an information desk and get a map of the aquarium, because Santana admitted she'd never been either. We were seated on a bench just inside the gates with the map spread half way onto her lap and half onto mine.<p>

"We should go look at the reef first," she said, pointing to the building nearest our current location on the map. "Then we can loop around towards the cafe and hit all of these areas on the way back."

"There's an aquatheater!" I cheered. "Does that mean there's a dolphin show?"

"I don't know," Santana said, peering down at the map. "But I have tickets for the show there in an hour."

"Yes!" I stood up and pulled her along with me. She laughed and let me loop my arm into hers as I pulled her along towards the Glover's Reef building.

"Those are amazing," I said, peering down at a tank of colorful coral and anemone. "Do you think if you poked it, it would shrink back into itself?"

"You'd probably get stung," Santana said, inching closer to the glass.

"I can't say ane..anemonemone?"

"You said it twice," Santana giggled. "It's an-em-oh-knee."

"An...em...ah," I shook my head. "Whatever. Let's go look at the next one!"

I grabbed her hand and tugged her along. There were a lot of people, since it was a Saturday, so I didn't want to lose her. I felt her hand slip out of mine and I glanced back. She looked down at the ground, and even though it was dark, I could see she looked embarrassed or something. Maybe I shouldn't have grabbed her hand like that. I stepped back closer to her and looped my arm in hers.

"I just didn't want to get lost in the crowd," I said. It was true. "C'mon."

She didn't say anything else, but let me lead her to the next spot. I tried my best to put it out of my mind, but now that it happened, I really did want to hold her hand. Not just pinkie link, either.

"That's really weird looking," Santana said quietly as we approached the next tank. It was this colorful yellow fish, with white spots on the side. It had horns projecting out of its face and out of its backside near its tail. It even had this little beak.

"It is," I said, looking up at the sign above the tank. I quickly found its picture. "It says its a Longhorn cowfish. I like it! It's quirky! And its my favorite color."

"Yellow is your favorite color?" Santana said, tilting her head to look at me.

"I like lots of colors," I nodded. "Blue, purple, green... what's yours?"

"Red," she said with a shrug. "Green's cool too."

"I want one," I said, turning back to the cowfish.

"I don't think you can have one as a pet," Santana said.

"Oh..." My shoulders sank a little. I guess it would be hard to keep any of the fish that lived with all these interesting plants and coral and stuff. I couldn't even keep a goldfish alive. Lord Tubbington was vocal enough to remind me if I forgot to feed him, plus Quinn and Rachel seemed to have taken that over for me. I felt Santana pull on my arm.

"Let's keep going?"

"Oh, yeah," I nodded. "I don't wanna miss the show at the aquatheater."

We finished going through all the areas in the Glover Reef building. Santana had found some really scary looking fish in this really dark section of the building, and made me look at them. She chased me and pretended to be one with those long jutting teeth and tickled me until we accidentally bumped into some lady taking a picture. She apologized for the both of us and quickly dragged me along to the next tank, but we couldn't stop giggling throughout the rest of the exhibit.

Now, we were sitting at the Aquatheater, outside. Santana didn't want to sit in the splash zone because it was cold and she didn't want to get her hair wet, but I pleaded and begged until she agreed, and we were sitting in the front row.

"Where do you think the dolphins are?" I asked, staring at the blue tank.

"I don't think there are any dolphins, Britt," Santana said quietly.

"What?" I felt my expression drop. "But..."

"I'm sorry, Britt," Santana said, pulling out the map. "I feel like if it were a dolphin show, they would have put a picture of a dolphin on the aquatheater. Not a sea lion." She looked really disheartened. I realized I must have looked really sad about the dolphins, and that was silly. I was so happy to be here with her. I leaned into her a little and smiled.

"I didn't know you could have a show with sea lions," I said. "What do you think they'll do?"

"I have no idea," Santana said, looking a little puzzled. "Like, legit, no clue what the hell a sea lion does."

"Me either? Oh, this is going to be fun!" I said excitedly. She seemed to relax a little now that I had gotten energized over the show again.

The show started off as the trainers came out and explained the differences between sea lions and other types of seals. I squealed excitedly when the first sea lion popped out of the water. Apparently, sea lions could do lots of things. They could stand on both their front and their back flippers and roll over. I was so excited when the sea lion started dancing to the music. Santana shook her head and laughed as I did a little dance of my own. After it stopped dancing, I quieted down a bit, and she wiggled her hand in mine, gripping my pinkie tightly. Her hands felt cold, and I looked over to see that her nose was really red. I scooted closer to her. The sea lion was racing another one now, and then it started to do flips and jumps in the water. Even Santana got excited when it jumped up and hit a ball with its nose from the water.

When we left the show, Santana kept her pinkie linked with mine as we huddled close together. It wasn't quite spring yet here in New York, so it was still pretty cold. We followed the mapped route. We passed by penguins, and I couldn't help but grin. I know Santana said we'd loop back around to see them, but I couldn't resist. They were so cute. She laughed and let me lead her towards them, keeping her pinkie locked tightly with mine. She even let me hug her from behind when we got to the fence, since there were so many people and we couldn't stand next to each other.

"I want one," I said.

"You want everything," she said, pressing her back into me. "A cowfish, a stingray, a sea lion, now a puffin."

"No, a penguin," I said, pointing in front of her at the penguin directly in front of us. It was snuggled up against another one, sleeping. The other penguin was nuzzling its beak into the sleeping one, like it was plucking its feathers. There were a few puffin in the cage, but there were more penguins than anything else.

"Mm," she hummed. She was being really cute. The sleeping penguin reminded me of her. I tightened my hug around her and she rolled her head back into my shoulder. I had the sudden urge to kiss her, but I knew that with so many people around, that was a bad idea.

"Where to, next?" she asked, straightening up a little. I relinked our pinkies and pulled her back out of the crowd to get back on route. We went to this thing called the Bathysphere, which was some really old submersible. Santana was shivering, though, so I pulled her along instead of stopping to take a picture and read the sign about it so we could go to another building with lots of tanks in it.

"Warmer?" I asked once we were inside, looking at a tank that didn't seem to have anything in it. The sign said electric eel, but we were having trouble spotting it.

"Mm, very," she nodded, leaning against me. Suddenly she perked up and jabbed her finger against the glass. "There it is!"

"Where?" I bobbed up and down trying to find the eel. "I don't see it."

"It's right there! Look, here."

"Hold on, you're shorter than me," I said, unlinking our pinkies and squirming to look into the tank from her position. I didn't see anything. Just rocks. She stepped behind me and then grabbed my sides abruptly. I squealed and turned to face her.

"You didn't see anything!"

"I did too!" she said, again pointing at the tank. "There. See? See its face?"

"No," I shook my head, and then she grabbed my side again. I couldn't believe I fell for it twice. "S-stop, Santana!"

We ate lunch at the cafe after we went and looked at the jellyfish exhibit. So far, that had been my favorite part, because all the different jellyfish looked so cool and weird. Some of them glowed neon colors and others had really long stringy tendrils that looked as though they would get tangled and caught on things. Some of them did, and little appendages would float in the water. It was kind of gross.

Santana argued with me over paying for lunch, but this time I had gotten to the counter first and paid before she could. She was pouting as she sat across from me, barely touching her food.

"Why are you mad?"

"'cause, I was supposed to pay," she grumbled.

"You paid for our tickets. And you drove us all the way here. I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you if I didn't pay for _something_," I said, grabbing a French fry off her plate. She reached forward and smacked my hand.

"You have your own fries," she said, pointing to my plate.

"Yours taste better," I said with a cheeky grin.

"Don't try to change the subject. You still should have let me pay. This was my treat," she sighed.

"Why are you so insistent on paying?" I laughed.

"You just spent all this money and took all this time off to move in," she shrugged. "I just wanted you to have a day where you didn't have to worry about anything and we'd just have fun together."

"I am having fun," I nodded. "And I have enough money to buy us lunch. It's not a problem, Santana."

Santana sighed, and sat back a little, finally succumbing to hunger and grabbing a few of her fries. She sat in silence for a while before stretching over and grabbing some of mine.

"Hey," I said, swatting at her hand. "You have _your_ own."

"I wanted to see if mine tasted better or if you were lying," she said, popping a fry into her mouth. She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, no, mine totally taste better."

"They do not!" I said, grabbing one of hers. She caught my hand and we not-so-silently had a game of tug of war over the fry. I won, but it was kind of squished by the time I got it. I ate it anyway.

"Where do you want to go next?" I asked. She looked down sheepishly.

"What?" I tilted my head to the side.

"I... can we go to the shark exhibit?" she said.

"Yeah, of course," I said, pulling out the map. It was the closest thing to us on the trip back towards the entrance. "Why were you so sheepish about it?"

"I wasn't," she said, straightening up.

"Yes, you were," I laughed. "Spill, or else I'll eat all your fries."

"...okay, so you know how every summer there's this one week that the Discovery Channel features nothing but shark programs?"

"Shark Week, yeah," I nodded before sipping my soda.

"Okay, so I first saw it three summers ago," Santana said in a hushed voice and leaned closer to me. "And I'm like, completely obsessed."

"What?" I snorted.

"Literally, like, it's my favorite week of the whole damn year." She said it so quietly and anxiously as she looked around the rest of the cafe as though someone was going to judge her for what she said. I started to giggle. I was glad I wasn't drinking my soda, or else I would have probably choked.

"Wh-why is that embarrassing?" I laughed.

"'Cause you're laughing!" she said, kicking back in her seat as she waved her hand at me. It only made me laugh more. "It's so lame!"

"How are man-eating, dangerous killers lame?" I asked.

"It's not, I am," she said, placing her elbow on the table and resting her forehead in her palm as she shook her head.

"You're not lame," I said, scooting my chair around the circular table to get closer to her. "Shark Week is awesome. I watch it with my sister."

"Yeah?" she said, looking up at me.

"Mm, she always pretends to be a shark and tries to bite me," I frowned. "_That's_ lame."

"Yeah, it is," Santana laughed. She moved her chair closer to me. "Are you done eating?"

"I think so," I nodded. "Do you want to go see the sharks now?"

"Yes," she grinned.

* * *

><p>The building with the sharks in it was really dark. The only light source seemed to be from the tank itself, where the sharks swam in circles around the room. I huddled next to Santana as she pointed out different sharks to me, and told me what they were and some random facts about them. She said her favorite was the tiger shark, and she dragged me over to one as it swam by. It was scary. It was sleek and and had sharp teeth that jutted out of its mouth, and definitely looked dangerous. She told me that they were second on the list of recorded human attacks, but they weren't actually that dangerous. Maybe four people a year got attacked by them, and usually it wasn't fatal.<p>

"Why do you like them so much?" I asked. She stared up at the tiger shark as it lazily swam forward, pausing before she spoke.

"...No one messes with a shark," she said so quietly, I almost hadn't heard her. "Even if it isn't really threatening, people just don't fuck with them."

I leaned back a little and stared at Santana's face as she spoke. It was hard to see her expression, but the light from the tank illuminated her well enough that I could see her brow crease. She wore a really stern expression, and looked almost tired. Not the sleepy kind of tired, but kind of... desolate. I didn't like the way she stood there, staring blankly at the tank. I looked back and saw the shark was gone.

"Sharks scare me," I admitted. "But they also seem really lonely."

She looked up at me when I said that. I inched closer to her, and slipped my hand into hers. Not a pinkie hold. I wrapped my hand in hers, and she slowly snaked her hand around to tangle her fingers in mine.

"They're not scary," she said softly. "Just misunderstood."

"You're not a shark, Santana," I said, stepping back away from the tank towards one of the gaps between the glass. It was darker there, and with all the people around, I knew she wouldn't want anyone seeing us. I pulled her towards me, and she took a few cautious steps into the dark with me. I stepped forward again when she stopped moving and lifted my free hand to cup her cheek. She bowed her head down timidly, but pressed against my hand and nudged it. I tilted her head up at me. She still looked really sad. I didn't want her to ever be sad or lonely. She wasn't misunderstood like the sharks were. I understood her. And anything I didn't understand about her was fascinating and made me want to know more.

I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers, holding still and waiting for her to be okay with this. I knew it was risky to kiss her when we were standing in a room full of strangers, but with the cloak of darkness over us, I was sure no one could see. Even if they could, they were too focused on the sharks to care. Santana lifted her free arm around my neck, tugging our conjoined hand back to pull me closer. She deepened the kiss, but it felt feverish and so unlike any of the ways she kissed me before. She was tense and nervous, but I couldn't help but feel it wasn't because we were kissing in public. I lowered my hand from her face and wrapped it around her, slipping my lips away from hers and placing light kisses along her jaw until I found her ear. I held there for a second, breathing as quietly as I could with my face pressed to hers.

"You're special and important," I said, recalling what she had said to me yesterday. I wanted to think of something that sound smart and insightful, but I didn't know how to do that. I just wanted to make her feel better. I was having such a good time with her, and I think she thought she was doing everything wrong.

"So much. To me," I whispered. She nuzzled against my neck, and I felt her lips move, but her voice was faint. She shook her head, and tried again.

"Thank you," she whispered as loudly as she could.

* * *

><p>"Which one?" I held up a giant octopus stuffed animal in my one hand and an almost as large seahorse in the other. We had finished looking at all the exhibits, so Santana and I decided to look at the souvenir shop. She lifted one of the octopus' arms and wiggled it in the air.<p>

"Don't you have enough stuffed animals?"

"But Santana..." I set the seahorse down and grabbed two of the octopus' arms and stepped forward to wrap her around in a hug from both me and the plush animal. "He wuvs you."

She grinned and tried to hold her laugh back. She still scrunched her nose in that really cute way she does when she's happy.

"I don't know, Britt," Santana shook her head. "I really don't think I can handle any more stuffed animals. I already compete enough with Jeremy for snuggling."

"That's fair," I nodded, untangling her from the octopus and setting him among the others. "Besides, I don't know what to feed a giant octopus."

"I'm sure he eats what other stuffed animals eat," she said, taking a step forward and linking her pinkie in mine.

"What's that?"

"Stuffing, of course," she said, puffing out her cheeks. I laughed and bumped into her. I liked when Santana was comfortable enough around me to make silly remarks. She acted really big and tough, but she was secretly really sweet and sensitive. We stumbled around the shop, mostly because I kept knocking playfully into Santana. We played with the funny hats they had and the light up toys in a bin at the back of the store, and then Santana paused to look at the mugs and t-shirts and photo frames.

"Oh, look how pretty it is, Santana," I said, pulling away from her as I pointed at a glass sculpture of a dolphin. She kept hold of my pinkie and tugged me back as she placed the mug she was holding back down before stepping towards me.

"Mm, yeah, it is," she said. She leaned down and poked at some of the bracelets that were shelved next to the sculptures. "Did you want to get anything?"

"Nah, I'm just looking," I smiled. "What about you?"

"...same," she shrugged. She picked up one of the bracelets and held it up. "But this is pretty cool. What do you think?"

It was a metal band that looked like a set of shark teeth. I would have thought it was a miniature bear trap if we hadn't just been around the aquarium.

"It looks painful. What if you fell?"

"True," she said, turning it around and setting it back down. "Which one do you like?"

"I don't know," I said, stepping closer and looking at the other bracelets. There were a lot of really pretty ones. I poked a few bracelets and we giggled at how some looked really tacky. My eyes fell on a plain silver bracelet and next to it were various charms, mostly fish, but some regular ones too.

"Ohh, Santana, we should get friendship bracelets!"

Santana inched towards me and fiddled with one of the bracelets.

"Definitely," she grinned. "What pendant should we get?"

"I don't know," I hummed. We eagerly started to poke at fish, and she protested most of the ones I suggested. She said she wanted the shark tooth, and I groaned, because those weren't cute at all. She laughed, nudging me with her elbow. I hadn't realized she was joking. I couldn't decide on anything. They had penguins and stingrays and even a little seal. Santana suggested we just get something simple then, and forego the aquarium theme. I grinned as she picked up a star and a heart.

"Which one?" she said. I pointed to the heart immediately.

"Good, because stars always remind me of Berry," she shook her head. "She's always sticking them on things."

"I noticed that," I laughed. Santana bought both bracelets. I would have protested, but I noticed she had been looking around the store the whole time, not for herself, and I think she wanted to get me something. She was helping me put mine on when her phone started ringing.

_She's nothing like the girl you've ever seen before. Nothing you can't compare to your neighborhood- I'm trying to find the words to describe this girl without being disrespectfuuul-_

Santana managed to clumsily get the clasp of the bracelet on and then fumbled with her purse until she retrieved her cell phone. She gave me an apologetic glance before twisting around to answer the call.

**A/N: So, I haven't seen my beta online, but I've gotten enough messages to know you guys want to read this. I cut the chapter in half, because I just couldn't finish it in one big chunk. I would also like to point out that I have like, legit, no clue what the hell a sea lion does. I had to do so much research for this. I used to go to the Baltimore National Aquarium ALL the fucking time, but I had to look up the NY Aquarium and find a map to try and make things accurate.**

**This chapter is kind of slow going, and I don't know if that's a good thing. I know I could have cut things out, but I think it was important to give a slow reveal to some things about Santana. It's hard to do that from Brittany's perspective, but she's surprisingly observant. The song in this chapter is Under the Cover of Darkness by The Strokes - .com/watch?v=OiU1OgGEm1U **

**I had no idea that was the title until after I finished writing the chapter, so interestingly enough, that totally fits. In fact, I'll use it as the title. I couldn't get it out of my head, and Hemo danced to it in some video, so it worked its way in. I'm trying to tone down the music, because I feel it makes things very systematic. **

**Anyway! Let me know what you think of their little trip out of the apartment. :) I wonder if Brittany realizes it's a date? And who is calling Santana? -HeeBee**

**EDIT: Also, happy 1 month birthday, ITYtD! :D**


	17. Santana 101

"Tina?" Santana said quietly, taking a step away from me as she did. I didn't want to eavesdrop, but hearing Santana mention her name made me queasy. Even though I knew Santana wanted me to be close to her, we still hadn't really talked about what kissing and sleeping in each other's bed meant. And hearing Tina's name reminded me of all the unstable and unknown aspects of the relationship I had with Santana. I stepped forward to try and listen in.

"No, I'm not, I'm out with Brittany right now," she shook her head. "Wait, are you at work? Shit, what time is it-" Santana looked down at her watch and I noticed her brow furrowed and eyes widen a little.

"I don't have to be in yet. Why are you at work?"

I felt a little uncomfortable with nothing to do as Santana stood there on the phone. I fiddled with her bracelet that I still held in my hands and looked down to trace my fingers over the heart-shaped pendant. Why was Tina calling? Santana sounded just as confused as I felt.

"What?" she snapped. "Tina, I took off work last night, I can't-"

I looked up from the bracelet as Santana shook her head. She held the phone to her ear a minute and just listened.

"I don't give a _fuck_ if Rory said he'll cover it. I'm taking off for Spring Break, I can't afford- what? No, tell him to put me back on the schedule." Santana looked angry. I didn't know whether I should step forward and try and comfort her or not. I didn't know what she was mad about. It sounded like Tina was messing with her work schedule. I didn't know much about Santana's job, but she seemed to really like working there.

"Whose bright idea was this? No, I don't want to work Monday instead- Oh? The afternoon?" She paused and shifted her weight as she leaned back. "Put him on the damn phone." Another pause, then, "What is it, Puckerman?" she snapped. I tilted my head to the side and took a step towards her. Who was Puckerman?

"Yes, I am mad. You're messing with my _job_, not just something I do for fun. I have to pay _rent_, you ass," she growled. "No, you can't just 'make it up' to me, Puck. It's a Saturday shift. Do you know how much money I make on Saturdays? You can't just make decisions for me about my work without even asking me."

My eyes widened a little. Santana wasn't just angry now. She looked even more upset than when Rachel had said that thing on the phone. Maybe not as upset emotionally, but I was surprised she hadn't started shouting in Spanish to whoever Puck was. I inched closer to her and placed my fingertips on her arm. She flinched, raising it defensively, but then caught my gaze.

"Look, Puck, I know you didn't mean to, but you're kind of pissing me off." Her tone was still a little abrasive, but she was trying her best not to let it show. After a moment's pause, her face shifted from what I thought was concern or surprise or even anger, and then it settled on an expression I was unfamiliar with. I'd seen it before, when we first met, but I hadn't really seen it directed at me. She just looked serious, stuck between annoyed and displeased.

"No, that wasn't why I was upset. In fact, I didn't remember," she growled. "But _thank you_ for being a gentleman about it _after_ sticking your tongue down my throat." Her brow furrowed even more as she raised her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose as she listened.

I shifted uncomfortably. Santana glanced back at me and her expression softened immediately. She looked at me with these big brown eyes and she bit her lower lip. I think she was trying to apologize. Even though I didn't know what she was apologizing for, I think I would have forgiven her for anything from that look alone.

"Yeah, yeah, fine. Whatever," she said quietly. "Now explain to me again why you convinced Flanagan to change my schedule?

"No," she said and looked at me again. "Later tonight? But I had plans with Brittany... oh, she's my new roommate."

I started shuffling back and forth because I hate standing still, but I regretted it instantly because it drew Santana's attention back to me. She stepped towards me and pulled the phone away from her face, pressing the microphone end to her neck.

"My friend Puck is trying to get a bunch of people together for a party or something," she said quietly. "Do you want to go?"

I looked at her, searching her eyes for an answer. She didn't sound happy about the arrangements.

"Do you want to?" I asked back, just as quietly. She shook her head. "Then, no."

"That's a no, Puck," she said as she rose the phone back up to her ear. She held it there a moment and then sighed. She held it out to me. "I'm sorry. He's insisting on talking to you."

"Okay," I said and nervously took the phone.

_"Hey, Brittany, right?"_ The man's voice on the other end of the phone sounded rough and a little cocky. I was immediately taken aback.

"Y-yes," I said and looked at Santana. She rolled her eyes and held my wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze.

_"I'm Puck. Santana's probably mentioned me."_

"Uh, sure," I shrugged.

_"Anyway, my band just got this awesome gig, and this club is giving us VIP access in celebration. We just got back to New York and I want you guys to be there. Sound cool?"_

"He really wants us to go," I said to Santana. She frowned and shook her head. "I don't think-"

_"Tina, what did you say about this girl? She's a dancer, right?"_ I heard him call out. _"Brittany, you like to dance, right? C'mon, it's a club, it'll be fun."_

"Yeah, but-"

_"Brittany, it's Tina,"_ her voice came on the line. She sounded bubbly and a lot less forceful than Puckerman did. _"We already cleared Santana's schedule. I know you don't work either. So please? It'll be fun. The rest of our friends are going to be here, and we want you to meet them."_

"Tina, it sounds like a lot of fun, but if Santana doesn't want to go-"

_"No, we have to convince her to go. Don't you want to dance? I bet Santana will have fun if you dance with her."_

I looked up at Santana as I felt a spark of interest flood over me. I did like dancing with Santana. A lot. Like, so much. Especially because the last time we danced, she kissed me. I felt like sometimes it was the only way I could communicate with her.

Santana rolled her eyes before I could even say anything. She took the phone out of my hands and brought it back up to her ear.

"Tina, I hate you," she hissed. She looked at me, still scowling, until a small smile peeked its way through. "Yeah, we'll be there."

I cheered and jumped up to give her a hug. She laughed and held me with one arm as she asked Tina about the time and place.

* * *

><p>"Ladies!" A tall, tan and toned looking guy with a mohawk approached Santana and I as we walked into the club. I made Santana walk around a bit more to cheer her up after the phone call, but then we got stuck in traffic forever. We barely had enough time to run into our apartment, change clothes, and head out again. The guy with the mohawk grinned broadly at Santana and then looked me over in a way that made me sort of uncomfortable.<p>

"Puck, no, don't even," Santana swatted him. His grin didn't falter. In fact, he looked more mischievous now that he had her attention. She gave him an exasperated sigh and nodded at me. "Brittany, Puck. Puck, Brittany."

"It's nice to meet you," I said politely, even though, so far, I felt quite the opposite. He straightened a little and seemed to have taken Santana's warning seriously as he looked at me again. He held out a hand and took mine a lot more gently than I expected.

"Same," he winked. He turned and wrapped his arm around Santana, and I instantly started to dislike him again. "So why don't you come over to our table? Q and R are already here. Though, damn, Santana, I thought you said Rachel was better. I forgot without Finn around how much she talks-"

"Don't talk about Finn," she hissed and snuck out of his grip. I was glad she did, because a moment later she had her arm looped in mine and was pulling me away from Puck and towards a table full of familiar and unfamiliar faces. Tina was sitting on Mike's lap, her arm draping over his shoulder and they both waved at us as we approached. Quinn was talking to Kurt, who I had met but didn't get a chance to talk to a whole lot to him. Rachel was sitting in between two people I didn't recognize at all. As I sat down, I realized Santana had a lot more friends than I expected.

"Brittany, this is Mercedes," Quinn said, stretching across Kurt and pointing at the black girl that was sitting next to Rachel and then gestured to the blonde guy on her opposite side. "And this is Sam."

"Hi Brittany!" Mercedes said happily. "Quinn and Rachel told me all about you."

"They did? I hope they said nice things," I said. "And that they didn't tell you I stole Rachel's blueberries, because that totally wasn't me, it was Santana-" I glanced to my side and noticed Santana was gone. I would have gotten up to find her, but I didn't want to be rude.

"Rachel did tell me about that," Mercedes laughed. I flushed.

"Isn't she just adorable?" Kurt said, and Mercedes nodded.

"How is it everyone knew about this girl but us?" Puck said as he slid into the space next to Sam. Sam shrugged.

"We've been out of state for a while, dude," Sam said. "But it's always a pleasure to meet new faces." Sam leaned back and smiled at me. "You must feel like the new kid at school - that was me a few years back with these guys."

"Really?" I laughed. "I do, sort of. Except I still haven't figured out my classes."

"Cute," Kurt said, sipping from his drink. "Let's see, what classes do you have? Maybe we can give you a pointer or two."

"Obviously there's Stealing Food 100, but you're already excelling at that," Mercedes said with a chuckle.

"How to Avoid the Cleaning Chart 215," Tina winked. "The best thing to do for that is to always say it's Santana's week."

"You did that?" Quinn gasped. "Of course we'd believe that! She never does her share! Oh shit, I must have yelled at her a million times for no reason." Tina and Mercedes started laughing so hard they knocked the table a bit and Kurt and Mike had to catch their drinks. I was giggling myself, but not so much because I kept catching Sam staring at me. I thought maybe some of one of the drinks spilled on me and I looked down at my shirt to double check.

"Speaking of Santana, I bet you need your own course for her," Kurt sighed.

"Oh, definitely," Sam interjected. "Santana 101. But if she lays into you with an onslaught of insults, don't worry too much. It means you've grown on her."

"You would know, Trouty-mouth," Santana said, out of nowhere. I looked up and saw her standing over me, and I smiled brightly. She leaned forward and placed a drink in front of me.

"I got you an appletini, is that okay?" she said quietly, and I was pretty sure anyone else would have had a hard time hearing her.

"Yes!" I said happily and took glass eagerly.

"Why are we talking about me?" Santana said, sliding into the space next to me.

"We're giving Brittany pointers on how to pass her roommate courses," Kurt explained.

"Yes, but Brittany's definitely passing Santana 101 with flying colors," Rachel said, waving her hand extravagantly in the air. I lowered my gaze to the table as I sipped on my drink. I had the urge to tell them _if only they knew_, jokingly, but I think Santana wouldn't have found that funny.

"You're right, she is, isn't she?" Quinn said, exchanging a glance with Tina. My eyes darted between them. I was confused.

"Maybe you should be the one to give us some pointers," Tina shrugged. "I heard the grumpy monster reared its ugly head this morning, and yet a gentle spirit managed to ward it off."

"Santana's not a monster," I laughed. I glanced at Santana and she was rolling her eyes.

"I was fucking tired, you can shut the hell up," Santana growled. I nudged her and she softened. "Oh, whatever."

"Oh. My. God," Kurt exclaimed. "You're so right, what was that?"

"You try being mean to this girl!" Santana said, gesturing to all of me. I laughed innocently. Was that one of the reasons Santana was nice to me? Was it just she couldn't be mean to me?

"You're right, Santana," Tina shook her head. "I think I scared her trying to warn her about you. Turns out she's schooled us all."

"You did scare me!" I said, louder than I meant to and causing Santana to look at me strangely. "She did! Everyone was like, 'Santana's scary' and 'She can be mean, don't let it get to you', but Tina! Tina's the one to watch out for!"

Everyone laughed as if I had said something ridiculous. I pouted into my drink and realized it was already gone. Santana gently squeezed my knee and I looked up at her.

"Do you want another drink?" she asked.

"Why aren't you drinking?" I tilted my head to the side and everyone was looking at Santana now. I felt bad for putting her on the spot like that.

"Because I'm driving," she said and shook her head.

"One drink isn't going to kill you," Puck shrugged, and Santana shot him a glare.

"I would have offered to drive," I said, mostly to distract her. I don't know why she was being so mean to him. His personality was a bit over the top, but I think she was still angry at him for the phone call. It made me wonder what he had said to her on the phone.

"Don't worry about it, Britt," she said softly. "Besides, not that I don't trust you, but my car is kind of like my baby."

"She won't even let me sit in the front seat," Rachel frowned.

"That's because you always change the radio," Santana snapped. I laughed, remembering how she had swatted my hand when I had tried to change the channel. It must have been second nature to her.

"Anyway, let's get you another drink," Sam said, as he wiggled out from his seat. Puck stood up to let him out and my brow furrowed.

"I can get myself something-" I started, but he'd already disappeared.

"Nah, girl, let him buy you a drink," Mercedes said. "New girl isn't gonna pay the first night she hangs with us, am I right?"

"But, I've already hung out with half of you," I protested.

"Just go with it. You get to drink for free and someone else is driving you home," Puck said, shaking his head. "Consider it payment for managing to convince Santana to join us after we messed up so bad."

I looked over at Santana, but she wasn't listening to the conversation. Her head was turned towards the direction of the bar, and after straining my neck a bit, I saw Sam talking to the bartender.

"Where were you guys, anyway?" Quinn asked. "I know you got stuck in traffic, but how far out of town were you?"

"Oh, we went, um…" I looked to Quinn and then back at Santana. She snapped back into attention and turned to Quinn.

"We were shopping," she shrugged. "I had to get some new clothes for work, and Britt had never been to Kings Plaza before." I was glad Santana was quick to think of something, but I wasn't sure how we'd be able to keep it going if we were asked more questions about it, especially if they started asking me direct questions. I had been to Kings Plaza before, so I knew I could talk about it if I needed to, but I wasn't good at lying. Luckily, a drink suddenly appeared in front of me.

"There you go," Sam said, winking at me. Santana tensed next to me, and I wanted to laugh. I picked up the drink to take a sip. It tasted awful. I don't know what it was, but it was really bitter. I forced myself to swallow and gave Sam a polite smile. The one Santana had gotten me was much better.

"Thank you," I said. "You didn't have to."

"Don't listen to her, Sam, we agreed she's not paying for drinks tonight," Mercedes said. He smiled, and winked at me. I rose the glass to my mouth to keep from having to say anything else, because I didn't know what to say. Sam was being really nice, and maybe if I had run into him a few weeks ago, I would have winked back. But right now I didn't want anything to do with anyone accept Santana.

"Hey," I heard Puck say as he leaned forward to Santana. He whispered something to her and she shook her head. I saw she was trying to keep her focus on Sam even with Puck in her ear.

"-Puck, I meant what I said," she hissed. I was trying to listen in when Tina nudged me.

"Hm?" I looked over and saw that Tina and Quinn were looking at me expectantly. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm buying next," Tina said. "Do you want a shot?"

"I'm not even finished with thi-"

"Shots shots shots!" Mercedes and Rachel shouted in unison. I glanced back and noticed that Santana had gotten up out of her seat and Puck was missing too. I didn't like that she kept disappearing, and it made me really uncomfortable that she might have disappeared with him. A round of shots appeared before I was even able to locate them, and then everyone was shouting shots again. I knocked mine back so they would stop faster, but Rachel took forever to drink hers. It was terrible, because they insisted on drinking more and more until Rachel finished.

"Is that too strong?" Sam said after a while. Our group had broken off into smaller conversations and I was having a hard time keeping up. Everyone knew so much about one another that I didn't know which conversation to listen in on and which ones I could even contribute to, so I settled for sitting back and just waiting to be spoken to again while sipping my really strong, bitter drink. I looked up at Sam and smiled sheepishly. I was intending to be polite, but I think the combination of the alcohol and his enthusiasm misinterpreted it as flirting. He inched closer to the table and towards me.

"I get lost all the time with these guys," he shook his head. "I'm a pretty simple guy, but they always manage to find drama in anything."

"I think it's great," I said. "They're really funny."

"Yeah, they are. I bet you would have fit right in with us in Glee club, though," he smiled. "We could have used more dancers."

"You know I'm a dancer?" I asked.

"Yeah, before you two got here, these two wouldn't stop talking about you," he said, pointing to Quinn and Tina. "I admit, they had me really intrigued to meet you."

"They didn't say anything weird, did they?" I asked, a little shocked. I had heard them mention Mercedes before, so I wasn't as surprised when she said that she had heard of me, but I didn't even know who Sam was. I felt embarrassed.

"Just that you can out-dance Mike and that you're a pretty funny person."

I didn't think Quinn thought I was funny. A lot of the time when I said things to her, she gave me strange looks. I nervously sipped my drink when he inched closer again and realized my drink was empty. I knew I was feeling lightheaded, but I thought maybe it was just because I was uncomfortable. I didn't even remember drinking it. Sam was looking at me expectantly and I didn't know how to continue talking to him. He just complimented me and I was just staring blankly at my empty glass.

"C'mon, I get it, but you won't even give me a chance to talk to you about it."

I looked up and saw Puck waving his hands at Santana as she appeared at my side.

"Britt, let's dance," she said abruptly, grabbing my arm and jerking me away from Sam. I was glad to be pulled away from him, but the way she held onto my arm made me realize this wasn't about dancing.

"What's wrong?" I asked quietly as I fell into her. She steadied me and then started to pull me towards the stairs and out of the VIP area into the dance floor.

"Nothing," she said hastily. "You wanted to dance, right?"

"I do, but you're being weird," I said and I could feel myself being slow to respond. I wasn't sure if she heard me properly because she paused and looked at me funny.

"Santana, I do want to dance," I said again, trying to be more clear. "Can you stop holding my arm so tightly?"

She looked down at her hand and seemed to have realized her nails were digging into my skin. She loosened her grip immediately but then let her hand slide down to my wrist.

"Is everything okay?" I asked as she tugged me further down the stairs.

"I just wanted..." she mumbled as she turned around the corner of the stairs and we were suddenly smooshed between people. I definitely couldn't hear her anymore. I knew she was mad, but I didn't know why. I wanted to know what was going on. What had Puck been talking about? I moved in closer to her, gripping around her waist after she pulled us into the crowd. She couldn't hear me, but I wanted her to know I was just as upset by her leaving me in the dark. I think she misinterpreted the gesture, because she slid her hands down onto mine and started to sway with the music. I got frustrated. I didn't want to dance, I wanted to talk. I pulled her closer to me, but then I saw her flash a smile at me and I forgot why I had tugged her closer in the first place. Maybe it had been to kiss her, but the thumping of the music reminded me other people were around.

Her hands slipped away from mine and she started to playfully shake back and forth. I wasn't sure why until I remembered we were dancing. I was so confused how I could forget that. I think she realized I was having trouble following along with her movements because she moved closer to me and held my hands. I felt like that alone made my world stop spinning. I had wanted to hold her hand all day and she had teased me with pinkie links and only let me hold her hand when were completely in the dark. I guess we were in the dark now, but for some reason it was okay to hold hands when we were masked by the premise of dancing.

I pressed closer to her as I was able to get a feel for what was going on now that she had me steady again. I could hear the song better now, and I laughed when I realized what it was.

_-you ain't gon' find it dancing with him - nooo. I've got a better solution for you, girl - oooh._

I pulled our hands down and I wiggled closer to her. She giggled and let me rock back and forth, and I placed my chin on her shoulder.

"-leave with me now, say the word and we'll go," I said as loud as I could. I didn't know if she could hear me. "I'll be your teacher, I'll show you the ropes. You'll see a side of love you've never known - I can see it going down, going dooown-"

I slipped my one hand away from hers and slide it around to the small of her back while pulling her other arm forward and guiding her to wrap it around me. I nuzzled my nose against her ear.

_In my head, I see you all over me. In my head fulfill my fantasy._

I pressed my lips against her neck and I felt her gasp. I smiled and kissed again, this time flicking my tongue out to run just below her jaw. I was so engrossed by how soft her skin was, I forgot anyone else was around. She smelt nice. It was probably because we hadn't been dancing for very long and she hadn't been drinking, but I didn't care. She tasted nice, too.

_My head, you'll be screamin' oooohhhhh-_

"Britt," Santana gasped as I nibbled her neck. I pushed into her as I pulled her closer. I realized that if I could hear her, she must have heard me, and then I remembered maybe I should ask her why she was upset. Was she still upset? She didn't seem upset, but I couldn't really see her face. I pulled back a little, and when I saw her face, all I could focus on was how smooth her lips looked. I moved in again to kiss her, but she pulled back. Her hands tightened around mine again. I hadn't noticed she had pulled them between us.

She shook her head and then leaned close to me again. Close enough for me to hear her, but cautiously far enough that I couldn't reach her neck with my mouth.

"Not here, okay?" she hissed. I think she intended to sound aggressive or forceful to get me to stop, but I pulled her towards me again and kissed her neck.

"Britt," she groaned, and I smiled. "Please, stop."

"Then let's go home," I whined, tugging her hands in mine. She hesitated and nodded against my cheek.

"Alright," I heard her whisper back, and before I could thank her or give her another kiss, she was tugging me back through the crowd.

* * *

><p>I was stretched over the center console of Santana's car and had my head resting on her shoulder as she drove. I don't know why I found it so fascinating, but I stared up at her and ran my fingers along the skin of her arm. It was soft like the rest of her. I was still pretty sure her lips were the softest. My fingers traced up her arm at that thought and tried to skate up her neck so I could touch her lips.<p>

"Britt, what are you doing?" she giggled. "Stop, I'm driving."

"Sorry," I mumbled and pulled my hands away. She lowered her arm and wrapped it around my shoulder and somehow found one of my hands. I wiggled it around, giggling as she tried to interlace her fingers with mine without looking. She missed a few times and grunted in frustration until I finally let her hold my hand. She held me still and I sighed against her side.

"I had fun today, Santana," I mumbled.

"Mm? That's good," she said. I tried to look up at her, but it was really hard to do now that she was holding me.

"Can I ask you stuff?'

"Of course," she said softly.

"Why were you mad?" I held my breath after I asked the question. I knew I wanted to ask her that earlier, but I kept forgetting.

"When?"

"On the phone. With Puck."

"Oh," Santana sank a little back in her chair. "I probably shouldn't have been. It was just as much my fault."

"What was?"

"Like last week or whenever, Puck came into my work and surprised me, and then I drank too much. We started making out and I freaked on him."

"Oh," I said hesitantly. She made out with him? I felt myself pull back slightly, but she held onto me.

"It was before,_ you know_," she whispered. "I didn't want to kiss him. That's why I was mad. I didn't remember it happened."

"Is that why you haven't been drinking?" I asked. She was silent a moment.

"...Yes," she nodded. "Can I ask you something?"

I sat up a little and she finally let me up. I twisted so that I could still hold her hand. "Please do."

"Did Tina really scare you? About me?"

"She did," I nodded. I felt silly for not telling Santana, because now that I had told all of them, it didn't seem that big of a deal. "She told me not to hurt you."

Santana almost slammed on the breaks as she came to a stop at a traffic light. She looked at me and my eyes widened a little.

"I didn't tell her anything," I shook my head. "She said you're really sensitive about your friends."

"Oh," she exhaled. "I'm sorry, that... that shouldn't have scared me so much."

"It's okay. She scared me enough for both of us," I said, leaning against her again.

"How's that?"

"That's why I didn't want to kiss you," I admitted sheepishly. "I was scared I'd ruin it, and I kept playing over what she said to me and how they all were so protective when you told them you thought you upset me."

"Oh, well," she paused. "That explains a lot."

"Were you mad at me?" I looked up from leaning on her shoulder to see her face.

"For not kissing me? No," she said and her brow furrowed together. "Not at all."

"I meant today," I said, twisting and kissing her shoulder. "At the club."

"No, I told you, I was mad at Puck-"

"You kept glaring at Sam," I whispered.

"I-" she stopped.

"I don't like Sam," I shook my head, rolling my forehead to press against her shoulder. "I mean, he's nice, but I felt really uncomfortable."

"Okay," she said. "I'm sorry, you're right. I was... maybe a little jealous. I just wanted today to be really nice and just... perfect, and it got so messed up."

I slid my hand down to her wrist and played with her bracelet. I was glad she'd left it on even though we changed earlier.

"Today was awesome," I sighed. "I liked everything about today. I have so many favorite parts of today. I didn't mean to let anything ruin our date."

"...it was just..."

"It didn't have to be," I said softly. "I just thought, cause you got so upset when I bought lunch."

"...I didn't mean to," she said sheepishly. "But you shouldn't have paid, I had this whole plan of how things were supposed to go today-"

"So it was a date," I giggled.

"-maybe," she admitted.

"Do you want to know my favorite part?" I asked, sitting up. I wavered a bit, probably because I sat up too quickly. She had just pulled into her parking space, but she held off turning off the car to look at me.

"What?" she asked, sounding almost scared.

"When we went to the shark tank," I said, leaning in. "And you admitted how much of a dork you were and told me all that stuff about sharks."

"Yeah?" she said, in little more than a whisper.

"And then you held my hand," I said, squeezing her hand tightly in mine. "You were scared, but you still let me kiss you."

She said something under her breath that I didn't quite catch, because I forced my lips onto hers. She twisted and wrapped her free hand around my neck and tugged me forward, and I pressed my tongue against her lips until she opened them a bit to let me in. I felt all the adrenaline rush back to my head from when we were dancing, and I swiftly unbuckled my seat belt to get closer to her. I think I almost lunged over the center console as my free hand grabbed at her waist. My fingers fumbled at her side, and she pulled away from my lips to look down. I was trying to remove her seatbelt, but I was having a bit of difficulty coordinating with all of her and most of me trying to take up the driver's seat. She giggled and kissed me, pushing me back a bit towards the passenger side. I heard the click of her seatbelt and I inched forward again, but she squeezed my hand and then reached forward to turn off the car. She twisted to open her door, and the lights flicked on in my head that I had to get out if I wanted to keep kissing her.

Somehow, we made it to the elevator without tackling each other, but once the doors were closed, I grabbed Santana and pushed her into the corner opposite of the control panel. She dug her fingers into my sides, but she didn't need to pull me because I was already pressed up against her. If I hadn't already been drinking, I think I would have told her her kisses were intoxicating. I felt her squirming beneath me, trying to push away from the wall as her hands slipped up to my face. I took a step backwards as she stood on her toes to match my height. I laughed and stumbled back just as the doors sprang open.

My shirt was gone. I don't know what happened to it. Or how we managed to get up the stairs. All I knew was that Quinn and Rachel weren't home yet, it was dark, and that Santana was running her hands up my sides and wrestling my tongue with hers. I leaned back and pulled her on top of me into her bed, gripping her waist tightly. She giggled and I pressed my lips harder against hers. She moaned and let her one hand slip behind my head and pull me closer. She was still wearing all her clothes, so I was pretty sure I had taken my own shirt off. I wanted to change that. I moved my hand up her waist and started to lift up her shirt, and then she tore away from my lips.

"Britt, mm-mm," she shook her head and then pressed her lips onto mine again. I think she didn't want me to take her shirt off, but then she started to scratch her nails across my bare stomach. I wiggled my fingers down and tugged along the band of her jeans until I found the center where the button was. I fumbled at it for a second, because I couldn't look down with her face pressed against mine and then she pulled away again. I whined.

"No, Britt," she murmured, leaning down and kissing my neck. She didn't want me to take off her clothes, but she still wanted to run her fingers over my body and suck on my neck. I was so confused, but maybe it was because I was still drunk. I just wanted there to be less clothes. I moved my hands away from her and started to pull off my pants. I had them half-way off and was wriggling beneath her when she completely stopped and sat up.

"What?" I said in exasperation. I could feel my chest heaving up and down. I didn't want her to take her hands off me. She was so warm, and her touch made me feel so good.

"Please leave your clothes on," she whispered softly. That didn't make sense to me. I wanted to do more than just kiss her. She was sitting on top of me, straddling me. It was so sexy. I just wanted to feel closer to her.

"Do you not want to do this?" I asked. I meant to ask nicely, but it came out as a mixture of a grumble and a whine.

"You're still drunk," she said, cupping my face in her hands. I slid my hands up to hold her wrists.

"Yeah?"

"I do, Britt," she said, and I noticed she was breathing just as hard as I was as she leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. I tried to move forward, but she held me still. "I want to, I do." She whispered and kissed me lightly on the cheek as she moved her hand away from cupping it. She sat up a little again, and I looked at her more confused than ever.

"Me too." I sat up, wrapping my hand around her back to keep her from sliding off me as I moved. She shook her head and pressed her palm to my chest when I dove in again to kiss her.

"I don't understand," I whined.

"I know," she whispered. "That's why I need you to stop and listen to me."

"I'm sorry," I murmured.

"Don't apologize," she said. "I just... um, well... I d-don't want to do this when you're drunk."

"Santana, I don't mind," I said, looking up at her from beneath my bangs. "I have sex all the time when I'm drunk."

She blushed when I said sex. I don't know why - I was pretty certain Santana wasn't embarrassed about sex, the way she made fun of Quinn and joked with me about things.

"I do, too," she admitted. "I mean, I have. I just, Brittany. I _always_ wake up regretting it in the morning."

I stared up at her, trying to make sense of what she was saying. I was starting to get really mad that I drank so much. She looked at me so seriously and I knew this was important.

"I want this to be special," she said softly, leaning down and kissing me gently. It was a soft kiss, but I still had to yell at myself not to stick my tongue out of my mouth.

"It is, because it's with you," I exhaled as she pulled her lips away. Santana must have noticed I was wavering a bit, because she swung her leg up and off of me and wrapped her hand around my back to pull me into her arms.

"That's really sweet," she mumbled and I nuzzled her neck. "But do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"I think so," I nodded. "You want to, but you want to wait."

"Yes," she nodded.

"Because it should be special."

"Yes."

"And you don't want to regret it."

"I don't want _you_ to regret it."

"I won't-"

"Let's just settle on it should be special, okay?" she giggled and tickled her fingers against my side. I took in a sharp breath because I was still mostly unclothed.

"...can we still make out?" She giggled and then pressed her lips against mine. It was a sweet and delicious kiss, but as passionate as it felt, it made me fall back into her arms rather than try to lean into her. I suddenly felt really sleepy, and I wondered if she knew that would happen when she kissed me like that.

"Santana..." I mumbled into her lips.

"Mm?" she said as she gently laid me down on the bed and let me curl into her.

"I like you so much."

"I know," she whispered and kissed me again. "I like you too."

**A/N: So, as stated last chapter, this is actually the conclusion to what was supposed to be all of Chapter 16. It got ridiculously long, and I apologize that I didn't finish it sooner. I want to note that originally the phone call was going to be from just Puck. But then after reading some reviews, I think my choice in ringtones was a little wrong, and it didn't make any damn sense. Easy fix though. **

**I think a lot more was revealed than I was intending originally, but I just had in my notes, "Brittany asks Santana questions," and that happened. I don't think I had planned to reveal these things anyway, so it ended up pretty decent, imo. Unfortunately, drunk!Brittany forgot to ask the one thing she really wanted to know, but it'll come up sooner than you think. :) **

**I has a surprise for you guys hopefully next chapter... it might be the reason for the delay between this and next, but I'm pretty sure you all will like it. Though I have no idea how I'm supposed to share it with you. Links get kind of botched when I post the chapters. - HeeBee**

**P.S. - The song was In My Head by Jason Derulo - .com/watch?v=LU-ZQWZSGfc**

**P.P.S. - To the readers that thought Santana is ill, I hope it doesn't really come across as that. D: **


	18. Kiss Me Slowly

There was a strange muffled sound coming from somewhere in the bed. I felt my brow crinkle and I pressed my face against the crook of Santana's neck, hoping for some reason that would make the sound go away. She shifted beneath me and I felt her pull away. I let out a low whimper of complaint at her absence, but she twisted back and I felt her lips press gently on my forehead.

"Shh," she cooed. I felt her move again, and the odd sound was louder now. She turned her head away. When the sound stopped and she started speaking, I realized she was answering her phone. It was difficult to hear what was going on because everything felt slow and hazy, and I couldn't will my eyes open.

"-why are you calling so early?" she hissed. I wiggled into her and placed my ear against her chest, listening to the soft rhythm of her heartbeat. She tried to contain a giggle as she wrapped her arm around me.

"Nothing, I wasn't laughing at you-" she sighed into the phone. "Where are you?"

I was trying to listen as best I could, but I kept feeling myself fall back into the warm and cozy comfort that only Santana seemed to provide. She was trying to be quiet for my sake, I think, but I wanted to tell her I could barely hear her anyway.

"...right now? Jesus, Quinn, can't you guys wait until later?" I felt her hold her breath beneath me.

"Fine, fine, okay. I get it, just stop talking," Santana grumbled. I heard her toss the phone down on the bed and I knew she had hung up. I moved my head slowly up to her ear.

"What's wrong?" I whispered, pressing a soft kiss on her earlobe before I could stop myself. She bent her head down and giggled. I think I tickled her. I nibbled at her neck. Then felt her hand press against my side and I became aware of how little I was wearing.

"Brittany," she cooed and she fidgeted until she squeezed out from the half of me that was on top of her. When she moved, I felt myself tip from my side to my stomach, face-planting the warm spot she had been laying in.

"'an'ana," I tried to say while muffled by her pillow. I threw my head up from her pillow and twisted to looked up as best I could from my position. She was looming over me, her hair cascading down like a veil. She leaned down and pressed her lips to mine, forcing a sleepy sigh out of me.

"I have to go pick up Quinn and Rachel," she said softly as she pulled back an inch. I leaned forward and met her lips again.

"Why?" I managed to say as I twisted around onto my back and lifted a hand to cup her face. She smiled against my lips when I pulled her back into me.

"Because their drunk asses crashed at Mercedes' place without thinking that she had to leave for work in the morning," she shifted, pressing her hand down next to me to hold herself up as she continued kissing me.

"Don't go," I mumbled, trying to raise my other hand to grip around her neck or hold to her waist, but I was so tired I barely had the strength to lift it from the mattress.

"I've got to," Santana said, sitting up a little. My whole body slumped further into the bed. She laughed. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon. You just stay here and get some rest. God knows you need it. Do you want some water?"

"No, I want some Santana," I muttered. She laughed again and pressed her lips to mine.

"I don't want to give you an overdose," she said softly before moving to my nose and kissing it lightly. "Sleep, okay?"

"...mm... 'kay..."

* * *

><p><em>The spotlight dimmed. Arms constricted around me. I struggled. They got tighter. The only light left was on the cage. Santana's cage. She looked terrified. Her eyes were wide. Her lips were trembling. The intensity of the light made even her skin look pale. I tried to shout. I couldn't. Something covered my mouth. I felt blinded by the intensity of her spotlight, but I tried to keep Santana in my sights.<em>

I shot forward, springing up out of the bed and gasping loudly. I heard a clatter as Santana fell from her chair. I was staring wide-eyed at her, but everything looked weird. The light in the room was so bright and everything looked blurry. Everything seemed over-saturated and radiant, I wasn't sure if I was still dreaming or not. I definitely felt like I was floating. I blinked unevenly.

_"Santana!" I shouted. The sound was muffled. A hand clasped against my face. I was suddenly weightless, thrust into the air. I kicked and shoved my arms back. Santana was still up there. She couldn't see me - my light was gone. But I could see her. _

"Jesus Christ, Britt, you scared me-" Santana shook her head at me. She scrambled back up into her chair. I think she was at her computer. She slammed it shut, and the sound echoed loudly. I felt really disoriented. "Brittany?"

_She looked out at the silent crowd and opened her mouth to speak or maybe even sing, but nothing came out. She looked startled and then stepped back. Just like me, she couldn't perform for the crowd. She was trapped. Not by a faceless dancer, but confined all the same. I looked up at her helplessly. How could I ever save her?_

I was panting heavily as I looked around the room. There was no audience, no cage, and thankfully, no faceless dancers. Just Santana and I. I had both hands gripping the comforter at my sides. The whole room was spinning. I blinked a few more times as she looked at me and then crawled onto the bed.

"Brittany." Her brow furrowed as she extended her hand to place it gently on my cheek. My chest was still heaving up and down and I knew if I looked anything like I felt, I probably looked crazy.

"What was it?" she asked, wrapping her arms around me. Again, I remembered how little I was wearing when the comforter fell from around me as she pulled me into her lap and hugged me close.

"Bad dream," I exhaled, nuzzling her neck softly. She rocked me back and forth to calm me down, running her fingers up and down my back. I relaxed immediately, feeling safe and secured in her arms.

"It's okay," she whispered, pressing her lips to my neck. "It was just a dream. Just a dream, sweetie."

I nodded and clung to her and she just held me like that for a while. Every now and then she would press her lips against my cheek or my neck and run her fingers up to brush my hair out of my face. Once I felt capable of it, I lifted my head from her shoulder.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," I muttered.

"No, it's okay. That's not your fault either," she smiled. "How's your hangover?"

"Not so great," I groaned. Maybe that was why all the lights were hurting my eyes. "Can we turn off your light?"

"My lights are off, Britt," she giggled and kissed me. "Let me pull the shades down."

She wiggled away from me and crossed her room to the window.

"Are Quinn and Rachel home?" I muttered, falling back into the bed.

"Yeah, but they're about as dead as you are."

"Ughh..." I moaned, raising my arm up across my face. "Santana, don't let me do shots with Mercedes ever again. She's crazy."

"She do be cray," Santana said above me. I didn't know when she came back from the window, but I didn't complain when she leaned down and kissed me. I tried to sit up, but as soon as her lips touched mine, they were gone again.

"Let's get some food and aspirin in you, okay? Don't come downstairs until you have all your clothes back on." She squeezed my bare knee and a second later, I heard her door open and close again. I laid there for a while longer before slowly willing myself upright. I stared down at my underwear and I felt myself smirk.

Santana wanted it to be special. She thought I was important enough for it to be special. That made me feel so warm and fuzzy inside.

As I stood up, I started to scan the room for my clothes. I found my pants easily enough, crumpled at the side of her bed where I had left them. I wiggled into them and then proceeded to scan the room for my shirt. Had I even taken it off in here? I was about to panic, but then I spotted it draped on the back of Santana's desk chair. I scooped it up and sat down as I lifted it over my head. I paused for a second when I realized I was sitting in front of her laptop.

What had she been doing that caused her to slam the laptop shut? I tugged on the bottom of my shirt to pull it down all the way and then cautiously looked back at the door. Santana was waiting for me downstairs, and no one else knew I was in here. It wouldn't take that long to look, right? I lifted open the computer and was surprised to see that nothing was open on the screen. Santana had a few folders on the desktop and a cute picture of Tina, Quinn, Rachel and herself all huddled together in a tight hug as the wallpaper. It made me smile to see them all so happy together, but their faces reminded me that I was snooping. I looked nervously back around and saw Jeremy staring at me from the floor.

"Don't look at me like that," I shot at him. "She doesn't even have anything open."

I looked back at the screen and saw down on the dock that the only application that was open was the internet. Of course, she was probably just checking her Facebook or Twitter or something. But why would she have been so eager to close those down if that had been the case? I sat back and shook my head. What was I doing? I glanced at Jeremy and kicked him away with my foot. I couldn't help it, my curiosity got the better of me. I clicked open Safari and went to reopen the last closed window when I noticed the search history.

I snorted with laughter and then exited Safari and closed the laptop. Santana was a lot more clever than I thought, and I already thought she was smart.

* * *

><p>"What?" Santana said, focused on the skillet in front of her. She was making me an omelette.<p>

"Nothing," I said, pressing against my cheek into my palm. I couldn't get this goofy grin off my face.

"Stop staring at me, I can't concentrate," she said in a frustrated tone as she fumbled with the omelette.

"Santana, are Quinn and Rachel still asleep?" I asked, not lifting my head from my hand, so I felt my jaw press against my hand and my head bob up a bit as I spoke.

"Yeah, why?" she said, turning around and pushing the omelette onto a plate that was sitting on the counter of the kitchen island. I smiled even brighter at her, and she blushed.

"What?" I think she wanted to be annoyed with me, but her smile forced its way through. I stood up from my swivel chair and wrapped my hands around her waist. She looked at me shyly and twisted to put the skillet back on the stove top. I pressed up against her from behind and held her in a tight hug.

"What is with you?" she said. I kissed her neck and she shrank to the side and laughed.

"You're just really cute," I smiled.

"Why am I cute?" she said, straining to look at me. I leaned in and gave her a soft peck.

"You told me you want it to be special," I wiggled my nose against hers. Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed.

"I do..." she whispered. I swayed her back and forth and she rested against me.

"Santana... have you- have you ever done stuff with a girl before?"

I felt her tense. I knew I caught her off guard with the question, so I squeezed her tightly.

"Britt-"

"If that's why you didn't want to do stuff last night, you can tell me."

"Brittany," she said quietly, stepping forward. I loosened my hold to let her have space. She looked a little scared. I didn't mean to scare her, I thought it was cute that she had googled information on how to have sex with girls. She looked down sheepishly at the ground.

"...I haven't, but," she looked up at me. "I meant what I said yesterday."

"I didn't mean to suggest otherwise," I said. "I mean, I thought you were-"

"No, I know," she shook her head. She looked like she was having a hard time finding the right words to say. I felt really bad now. I just wanted to tease her.

"I like you," she said. She held her hand up to her forehead as she spoke, looking at the ground most of the time. "I want it to be special and perfect, but yeah... I...I don't know what I'm doing." She dropped her hand and gave an exasperated sigh. Her cheeks were really red. I took a step towards her and reached to grab her hands. I ran my thumbs over her fingers gently a few times.

"I don't know what I'm doing either," I shrugged. She looked up at me, a little surprised.

"...y-yeah?" she said in the smallest voice ever. I nodded and she smiled timidly. I was glad she did. I pulled my hands out from hers and enveloped in in a huge hug. She rested her head on my shoulder and sighed.

"Santana, are you-"

"-I don't want to label this," she cut me off in a hushed whisper. She pulled her arms tighter around me. "I like what we're doing, I just... I don't want to mess it up."

"You couldn't mess it up if you tried," I said softly. I didn't know what she was so scared of. "I mean, Santana... If it helps, I could-"

She cut me off by twisting her head and meeting my lips. I hushed instantly, because I knew that was the intent of the kiss. Her eyes were clenched closed and her brow was pinched together. She was so scared.

"Don't," she whispered against me. "I don't want to know. I just want you, okay?"

"Okay," I nodded. She pulled away from me and shuffled towards the refrigerator. I sat back down in my chair as she pulled out some orange juice and went to grab us some glasses. I was confused. I thought I had her figured out, but she just threw me a curve ball. Why didn't she want to talk about it? I know it took a lot of courage for me to bring it up, but I just thought maybe asking earlier would have been overstepping my bounds.

Santana stood at the counter and placed a glass in front of me. I looked up and saw her stab the omelette with her fork and take a bite. I fished around for my own fork and tried to stop her from getting to the omelette.

"Stop, it's mine," I said adamantly. She forced her fork down on mine and we struggled for a minute before she managed to snatch another bite.

"I'm hungry too, and I cooked it," she said, covering her mouth as she chewed.

"It's like 1:30, why did you make breakfast food?" I asked, nabbing a bit of the omelette.

"Because you just woke up, and I know you like pancakes, but we still have dance class today. Omelettes are easier to make."

"I could have just had a sandwich. It's lunch time anyway," I shrugged.

"Don't complain and eat your breakfast," she chastised and gave me a light kiss.

"It's not breakfast if its afternoon..." I mumbled.

"Lunch then," she shrugged.

"But it's eggs," I whined. "That's confusing."

"Fine. I'll just eat it," she huffed, grabbing the plate.

"No, no! I'm hungry!" I waved my arm at her, trying to grab the plate. "C'mon, Santana, share!" I stood up and tried to grab the plate, but she twisted her back to me and I just enveloped her in a hug again. She shrieked and wiggled to try and get free.

"Stop yelling," a voice grumbled and we froze. I looked back, still holding on to Santana's waist with her rear pressed up against me and saw Quinn shuffle into the kitchen. Rachel was stumbling down the stairs as well. I took a step back from Santana and she straightened immediately.

"Well look what the cat dragged in," Santana said, placing a hand on her hip.

"I think Lord Tubbington is still sleeping," I shook my head, and Santana gave me a funny look. Quinn slid into one of the seats around the kitchen island and Rachel flopped belly first onto the couch.

"I feel like I'm dying," Rachel groaned into one of the cushions.

"I'm going to kill Mercedes," Quinn agreed, resting her forehead in her palm.

"I'm surprised you didn't," Santana said, placing the plate with the omelette down on the counter and grabbing her orange juice to sip. I tilted my head to the side and she moved the glass away.

"That one there is the most bipolar drunk ever," she said, not bothering to keep her tone down as she pointed at Quinn. "One second it's laughing and cheering and the next, it's 'I fucking hate you,' or 'Don't you dare laugh at that joke I made. You think that's funny?'"

"I am not," Quinn grumbled. "You're the bipolar one. You start making out with random people and then start sobbing incoherently. Besides, I rarely get to that point. You, on the other hand-"

"Yeah, whatever," Santana sighed.

"S, can you make me one...?" Rachel mumbled from the couch. Santana set her glass down and walked over to the living room and sat on the recliner next to the couch.

"I can't make you an omelette, Rach, it's got egg in it," Santana said softly.

"...I don't care," Rachel grumbled. Santana laughed.

"You will when you're more awake," Santana shook her head and brushed Rachel's hair back out of her face. "I can make you toast or something...?"

"Okay..."

"Something is wrong with you," Quinn grumbled as Santana walked back into the kitchen. I sipped at my orange juice as Santana rolled her eyes.

"It's a rare and delightful treat for me to be the only sober and not hung-over one," Santana said as she opened the pantry.

"Just stop talking, Santana," Quinn grumbled.

"And here I was about to offer to make you an omelette," Santana shook her head.

"Don't be like that," Quinn groaned. "Please make me one too?"

"No, I don't think I will," Santana smirked.

"Santana, be nice," I said as I stretched forward and grabbed the already-made omelette and started to eat it. "Are you guys going to dance with us?"

"No freaking way," Quinn said, her forehead placed on the counter. She was hugging her stomach tightly, and I wondered if it was such a good idea for Santana to make her anything to eat.

"...I just want to sleep," Rachel said, still muffled by the couch.

"Looks like it's just you and me," Santana winked.

"Where did you two run off to yesterday?" Quinn said, raising her head from the counter. I held my fork to my mouth and glanced at Santana.

"Came home," Santana shrugged. "Britt drank a lot, and we were both tired."

"You know Puck really wanted to spend time with you, right?" Quinn sighed, sitting back in her chair.

"That's too bad," Santana shrugged.

"He was really upset you left."

"Why do you care?" Santana said, spinning around abruptly. "He's not my boyfriend. He hasn't been since High School."

"We're all still friends, Santana," Quinn said, rubbing her temple slightly. "Stop yelling."

"Then change the subject."

"Have you decided on whether or not you're going home for Spring Break?" Quinn asked. I sat up straighter and looked at Santana.

"I'm not going home. I'm gonna stay here and work," Santana said, turning her attention back to the skillet in front of her. The toast from the toaster popped up and I moved to grab it for Rachel.

"Do vegans eat butter?" I whispered.

"No, there's some jam in the fridge she uses. You'll know it's hers, it's got a star on it," Santana said, pointing at the refrigerator with the spatula.

"You haven't gone home for years, Santana. You should totally come with me and Rachel," Quinn said.

"Oh yes, that will be great," Santana scowled. "Hola, Mami, Papi, no he estado en casa en tres años. ¿Todavía no me apoyan siendo un estudiante de música? Oh yes, definitely, I want to go home to that. '¿Por qué no estudiar medicina o de derecho, Santana? ¿Por qué la música? We supported you in Glee club... wasn't that enough?'" Santana held out her hand as she switched between Spanish and English, mixing in a spanish accent as she imitated who I could only guess was her mother.

"What about your abuela?" Quinn said. Her voice was quiet, and I got the feeling that Quinn hadn't meant to bring up Santana's parents.

"Abuela?" I asked as I set the toast in front of Rachel. I think she fell asleep.

"My grandmother," Santana said. "She practically raised me."

"So...?"

"I'm saving up for her to visit over the summer," Santana said quietly. "We'll see what happens. I don't know if I'll have enough." Santana glanced at me, and I noticed she looked a little sad. "What are you doing for Spring Break? Is it even the same time as us?"

"I have my break next week," I said. "After Friday."

"Us too," Santana nodded.

"I usually go home, but my sister is going on a trip with her friends, so my parents decided to take a vacation too. So I'm going to stay here and work."

"You both don't have any plans?" Quinn shook her head. "You should talk to Mike and Tina. They're planning on a road trip to Myrtle beach or something."

"The beach? Isn't it still a little cold for that?" I asked.

"It's South Carolina. Whatever the case, it'll definitely be warmer than here," Santana said, scooping the freshly made omelette onto a plate for Quinn.

"We should go," I smiled. "That sounds like fun."

"We'll see. I'll talk to Mr. Flanagan about rearranging my schedule, but let's talk to Mike and Tina first to find out the dates."

* * *

><p>Santana went to Mike's dance class alone. I missed my time slot for practice before his class, so I decided just to wait in the back until afterwards. I was still feeling sluggish and spent most of the hour or so of his class stretching. Santana made me join in the last fifteen minutes so that I could learn the routine so we could go over it afterwards, since she missed yesterday.<p>

"Looking good, girls," Mike said as he shut off the music. Most of the other students were shuffling out, but Santana and I were giggling as I tried to shadow her again.

"Oh, Mike, wait," Santana said, catching my hand as she stumbled around. "What are you doing for Spring Break?"

Mike rose a brow at the abruptness of the question. I pulled Santana back against me and started to sway her back and forth playfully, despite the music being absent.

"Well, Tina and I were planning on driving down to Myrtle Beach... Saturday to Tuesday," he shrugged. "You guys wanna join us?"

"Can we?" Santana said.

"Yeah, of course. I think Tina was planning on asking you anyway," Mike said, leaning down to grab his bag. "Also something about a slumber party before Q and Rach go home."

"Alright, sounds good. I'll talk to my boss about getting off," Santana said. She slapped at my hand lightly as I reached around her waist to spin her in a circle, but turned and laughed anyway. "Do you need to reschedule work?"

"Mm, yeah," I grinned. "But that's easy-peasy. You're sure you don't mind, Mike?"

"Of course not," Mike smiled. He winked at me, and I blushed. "I'm going to head out. Lock up for me, okay, Brittany?'

"Yessir," I said, straightening a little and giving him a salute. He laughed and waved as he turned away.

"I like Mike," I smiled.

"Watch it, he's got a girlfriend," Santana said, raising her brow.

"Not like that," I giggled. I tightened my arms around her and pulled her close. "Besides, I have someone I like."

"Oh?" Santana said quietly and twisted to look up at me. "Tell me about them?"

I shifted my weight as I pulled us back and forth to imaginary music. I felt Santana's hands tighten against my wrists.

"Well, they're smart," I said softly. "And really really pretty. And can sing really well."

"Sounds like quite the catch," she whispered. "Any flaws?"

"None," I whispered, kissing her neck. "Except maybe she needs to relax when she dances."

"I danced well today!" she said with a grunt.

"Who said anything about you?" I said, pulling back a bit. She gasped and swatted my arm playfully. She turned to face me fully and held her hands in mine.

"Well, I have someone I like too," she murmured.

"Why do you like them?" I asked.

"They're really cute and sweet," she said, toying with my fingers in her own. "And funny. The world they see is so much brighter and happier than the one I know. And I want to be part of it. I think I could, if only they'd let me be close to them."

"I'm right here," I smiled. She looked up at me and wrinkled her nose.

"Who said I was talking about you?" she giggled.

"I did," I said with a cheeky smile.

"Well, you're right," she leaned forward and placed her lips on mine. I held there for a moment. I didn't want to rush kissing her. Yesterday I felt like I couldn't get enough of her, and yet here we were again, alone, and all I wanted was for everything to slow down. I parted my lips a little to breathe and she shifted to deepen the kiss.

Santana stepped back, tugging on my hands as she did, and I moved forward to keep our lips locked. She giggled as I wiggled my fingers to interlace with hers and then pulled them to our sides. She moved back and forth and it dawned on me that we were sort of dancing.

"...You were talking about me, right?" she whispered, resting her forehead against mine as she pulled her lips away. I giggled and nodded.

* * *

><p>Santana spent the past few hours on her computer with her headphones on while I went to try and come up with a routine for my midterm. Dancing felt easy again. It was like all this weight was lifted off my shoulders and I could breathe. I caught her staring at me once or twice while I danced, but when I finally stopped from exhaustion, I looked back to see she was completely engrossed at her computer screen. I stumbled over and slumped down next to her, rubbing a towel across my neck. She had some program open and I could tell from the squiggly lines that it must be some type of audio editing program.<p>

"Are you finished?" she said, taking off her headphones to look at me. I nodded and she pressed the side of her head on my shoulder.

"Santana, I'm gross and sweaty, don't," I giggled. She laughed and sat up a little, moving her hand against the trackpad and saving her project.

"What are you working on?" I asked. She smiled sheepishly and shrugged her shoulders.

"I have to finish this song for my midterm," she said nonchalantly.

"Can I hear?" I asked. She blinked and shook her head.

"It's not finished yet," she laughed. "And it's not any good, really."

"Don't say that, I'm sure it sounds awesome," I said.

"Mm," she nodded, closing the laptop once it had finished saving her file. She pushed it into her bag and then moved to get up. "C'mon, it's late. Let's go home." She paused, leaning down with her hand outstretched to mine. I grasped her hand and let her pull me up. I was glad she continued to hold my hand as we walked towards the studio's exit. She even kept the contact as I locked the door.

"Will you let me listen to it when it's finished?" I asked as I swung our conjoined hands back and forth while we walked down the stairs of that led up to the studio.

"Maybe," she said. "It's just instrumentals, though. It's nothing fancy."

"I bet it still sounds awesome. How come there aren't any vocals?"

"It's just an assignment. I don't have any songs I've written that have actual lyrics," she shrugged again. "Maybe one day."

"You should. You have an amazing voice."

"Thanks..." Santana looked down sheepishly and smiled. When she looked back up, she stopped short, and I thought maybe she wanted to kiss me. I wanted to kiss her. I always wanted to kiss her, though. Then I noticed her eyes were a little wide and I looked up. The guy from yesterday, Puck, was leaning against her car.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped, pulling her hand out of mine.

"I stopped by your apartment, Quinn said you were here," he said, pushing off her car and stepping towards us. "Look, we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about, Puck," Santana said. She looked back at me. "Brittany, get in the car, c'mon."

"No, you. Stay," Puck gestured to me with his outstretched hand, keeping me from moving towards the car. "Santana's just using you as an excuse to run away." He turned his attention back to Santana, and I wasn't sure if I should have made an attempt to move again.

"Why won't you just talk to me? I told you, I was sorry for what happened. I didn't mean to be so forward, but Santana, come on. How am I supposed to know what to think if you don't give me any sort of clue what's going on in your head?"

"There's nothing going on in my head, _Noah_," Santana said, throwing her hand in the air after gesturing to her forehead. "Brittany, get in the car."

I moved again towards the car, and this time Puck didn't make any attempt to stop me. Instead, he caught Santana by the wrist. I froze at the door, suddenly angry that he was grabbing ahold of her.

"There is no 'us'," Santana said, pulling her hand back. She gave me a quick glare and I finally opened the door to her car. I scrambled inside and shut the door behind me, staring wide-eyed out at them. I don't know why Santana would want to be alone with him. I was scared she was going to attack him or worse, that he would try to hurt her. I realized now why Tina and Quinn had told me to be weary of Santana. She could be scary. Despite her size and how gentle she was with me, she had a sudden spark of ferocity in her now that she was being confronted by Puck.

The closed door of her car didn't really prevent me from hearing what was going on. If they had been speaking normally, maybe it would have been harder to hear, but Santana was angry and Puck was being fueled by her fire.

"-give me a chance. I know we were a long time ago, but Santana. We had some good times. And I've got my act together now. You and I were good together."

"I'm glad to hear that," Santana said, shifting back one one foot. "But we're not in the same place anymore. You got your shit together. Awesome. Great. But I was never waiting for you."

"Is there another guy? Look, if there is, fine, I'll back off-"

"No, god, Puck," Santana said, pressing her hand to her forehead as she looked at the ground. "You're not listening. There is no guy. There is no us. I don't want a relationship with you."

Puck stood silently for a while, and Santana's shoulders drooped a bit. She looked upset. Like she had just un-intentionally kicked a puppy. And Puck looked like the puppy.

"Why?" he said quietly. I barely heard him, but I saw his lips move to form the question.

"Because, Puck. I don't... I don't want a _guy_," she spat. She drew a breath and shook her head. "I don't want any guy right now. I just need to figure out myself right now. I'm busy with school and work and just... Puck, I like being your friend."

He looked up sadly at her as she said that.

"If you keep pushing me, I can't even be that," she said, brushing past him and heading towards the car.

"Okay," Puck said, tossing his hands up in the air. She froze at the door and looked up at him.

"I'll back off," he nodded. "That's all I wanted to know. Sorry if I made you upset."

"I'm not-"

"You are. It's okay. I'll go," he shook his head. Santana stood silently as he walked away and then slowly opened the door and got into her seat. She closed the door and sat there for a moment, just staring at the steering wheel.

"...are you okay?" I asked quietly.

"Do I look okay?" she snapped. I flinched. She looked up at me and her brow unfurled a bit and she sighed.

"I'm sorry," she shook her head. "I just need some quiet for a while, okay?"

"Okay," I nodded. She buckled her seatbelt and turned on the car. She didn't say a word to me the whole way home.

* * *

><p>"-hey, how was dance?" Quinn sat up from the couch. Rachel was huddled next to her, and they seemed to be watching a movie.<p>

"How about 'how was letting Santana get fucked by sending Puck to visit'?" Santana growled, storming up the stairs. I was still fumbling with my jacket by the time she made it all the way up. I heard her door slam a few moments later, and I sighed, placing my jacket in the coat closet.

"What on earth?" Rachel said, sitting up.

"Puck made her upset," I explained, slumping into the recliner.

"What are you doing?" Quinn said.

"Sitting?" I looked up at her.

"I mean, Santana's upset," Quinn said, gesturing with the remote to the ceiling, as if that was indication to point to Santana.

"Yeah, she told me she needed some peace and quiet for a while."

"No, honey," Quinn shook her head and stood up. "That's Santana code."

"What?" I tilted my head to the side. "How is that code? She wants to be left alone."

Quinn shuffled into the kitchen and pulled out a box from the pantry. I got up and made my way over, slumping again into my swivel chair as she went and grabbed a mug.

"Obviously you still have some things to learn about Santana," Quinn winked. "She's upstairs crying right now."

"She is?" I sat up straight. I nearly scrambled out of the chair, but Quinn placed her hand on my shoulder.

"Calm down. She says she wants space, but that's because she doesn't know how to ask for a shoulder to lean on," Quinn shook her head. She filled the mug with water and put it in the microwave.

"If you know that, how come you're not upstairs with her?" I asked.

"Because she told _you_ she wanted space," Quinn shrugged. "Tina got the same treatment from her. Besides, Santana knows I don't deal with mixed signals and bullshit like that."

I nodded slowly. It didn't really make any sense, but Santana was becoming surprisingly complex. She would say one thing and do another. The more complicated she got, the more I wanted to figure her out. It didn't take long for Quinn to finish making a cup of tea. She pushed the mug into my hands and nudged me towards the stairs.

"It's her favorite," Quinn said, nodding at the mug. "Go on."

"What if she really doesn't want to talk?"

"She probably doesn't want to," Quinn shrugged. "She just needs to know you're there for her for when she does."

"Quinn, don't make Brittany deal with Santana like this. That's not fair. She doesn't even know Puck," Rachel said.

"I'm not forcing her to do anything," Quinn snapped back. "Look, you don't have to. I'll go if you'd rather me do it?"

"No, it's okay," I nodded. "I got it."

I moved up the stairs, careful not to spill the hot tea on myself.

"You could have gone up to talk to Santana yourself," I heard Rachel say.

"It's more interesting this way," Quinn muttered.

* * *

><p>"Santana?" I pushed open Santana's door after several attempts at knocking. I was surprised when I didn't see her immediately. I eventually found her curled up in her circle chair, hugging Jeremy tightly in her arms. Quinn was right. She had been crying.<p>

"Santana..." I said again, softer, shutting the door behind me and swiftly minimizing the space between us. I leaned down to the chair, and she buried her face into Jeremy.

"Go away," she mumbled.

"...We don't need to talk," I said, shifting a little and half-sitting on the open space next to her. "Quinn said you just need-"

Santana dropped Jeremy in her lap and proceeded to wrap her arms around my waist. She pressed her cheek to my stomach and clung to me like her life depended on it. The shift in positions forced me to wobble and fall back into the chair, but I somehow managed to keep the tea from spilling all over both of us. I struggled to find a place to put the tea, eventually settling on placing it on the ground, and then pulled her curled up body closer to me.

"Britt, I'm s-sorry," she sniffled. I combed my fingers through her hair. What was she sorry for? She didn't do anything wrong. I didn't know if I was supposed to talk back. Maybe if I waited, she would keep talking, because I didn't have any clue what to say to her.

"I didn't mean to snap at you," she mumbled. My hands paused and then fell to around her shoulders and gave a soft squeeze.

"You were frustrated, it's fine," I said.

"No, it's not," she said, peeling away from me and shifting her legs so that she was sort of sitting up to look at me. It was hard to sit properly on her circle chair, because we were mostly just falling to the side, cradled by the half-sphere cushion. Her cheeks were were a little stained by her tears, and her eyes looked red and puffy.

"I don't ever want to be mean to you," she said, her voice a little raspy. I let my hand slip from around her back and I stroked my thumb under her eye to brush away some of the tears. She leaned her cheek into my palm and nuzzled it. "Not even a little."

"I know you feel bad, but I honestly don't care," I hugged her closer and placed my lips on her forehead. "I knew you weren't mad at me."

"I don't think it's possible to be mad at you," she snuggled her nose against my neck.

"Why were you upset?" I asked softly. "It sounded like you and Puck came to an understanding."

"You heard?" she said, tilting her head up a little. I kissed her nose.

"I didn't mean to, but you two were still standing right in front of your car," I said quietly. "Did you really mean what you said?"

"About what?"

"That you're too busy with school and work and you need time to figure yourself out," I whispered. I was sort of scared of her answer. I was scared she would think I was like Puck and pushing myself on her when she didn't want it.

"Britt, I told Puck the truth," she said, sitting up a little. "...I don't want a _guy_." She looked at me sheepishly, and when I didn't react, her eyes widened and she leaned forward a little. After a few seconds of her staring at me, it clicked in my head what she meant.

"_Oh._"

"God, I hope he's not smart enough to figure that out," she shook her head and pressed her forehead into my shoulder. I smiled and lifted my hand back to her hair and let my fingers play with a strand.

"Is that what you were so upset about?" I asked. "Him figuring out?"

"What? No," Santana shook her head. "No, I mean, sure, I'd be horrified, but that's because he wouldn't understand." She sighed. "Puck's one of those guys... he's kind of a manwhore. Ugh, no, he's not that bad."

Santana attempted to sit up a little, but merely just tossed her hair over her shoulder and laid back down in the chair. She had pulled her one arm from around me and was tinkering with my bracelet.

"He's really a sweetheart, deep down," she said softly. "And I mean, _deep_ down. He's embarrassed by it, I think. He thinks he's big and bad and tough, but it's all just an act."

I looked down at her, my lips curling a little into a small smirk. That sounded awfully familiar. I didn't dislike Puck so much now that Santana had a chance to explain him to me. At first, I thought Puck was exactly as she'd described him - one of those guys that just wanted to score as many girls as possible and didn't care about the consequences.

"I just can't lead him on anymore," she shrugged. "I feel terrible about it."

"You can't help falling out of love with someone, Santana," I said. "Not every relationship works out."

"Heh," she exhaled. "Tell that to Rachel."

"What's the deal with that?"

"It's a really long story," Santana said. "I wouldn't worry about it."

"Are you feeling better?"

"Much," she sighed. Her hand stopped playing with my bracelet and rested over top of my hand.

"Do you want your tea? Quinn said it was your favorite," I said, twisting out of her embrace and reaching down for the mug. She giggled and nodded as I pushed the mug into her hands. She took a sip from it and smiled at me.

"Want some?" she asked, tilting the cup to me. I smiled mischievously and leaned forward, catching her lips in mine. She wasn't expecting it and gasped a little. Luckily, we yet again managed to avoid getting tea spilled all over us.

"Delicious," I smirked as I pulled back.

"I meant the tea, you doofus," she giggled.

"Sorry, your lips just looked more appetizing," I said, leaning forward to kiss her again. I paused just an inch from her lips and looked up at her eyes. "Are you complaining?"

"Not even," she whispered. She stretched forward and closed the distance between us. I had to grab the mug out of her hands as she leaned into me, and I blindly placed it on the floor. I spilt some on my hand, but I was too preoccupied to care.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: I wanted to so badly for Britt to say, "Oooh, I'm bipolar," when Quinn and Santana were discussing their drinking habits, but we just were informed that Santana doesn't like labels (again). Oh well. Lost opportunity, I suppose._**

**_I'm sorry it took so long to update. I wrote this chapter between the intervals I was unconscious the past few days. I caught some awful cold/flu thing. There's no song for this one, but I suggest (as was suggested by one of my readers, though it was like she read my mind, cause I thought it too) Kiss Me Slowly by Parachute. Judging by the rate of reads/reviews I get every chapter, I'm pretty damn sure you'll enjoy next chapter. Not just for the content, but also because I'm super excited to give you guys a present. Hint - Have I mentioned I'm an art student?_**

**_P.S. - I nearly forgot to translate Santana's Spanish! _**

**_"_Hello, Mom, Dad, I haven't been home in three years. Still not supporting me being a music student?_ Oh yes, definitely, I want to go home to that. _'Why didn't you study medicine or law, Santana? Why music?_ We supported you in Glee club... wasn't that enough?'"_**

**_I took some artistic liberties with Santana's parents, considering we still have yet to see them. Don't get me wrong though, Santana's relationship with her parents isn't that bad. I mean, not that I'm aware of._**


	19. Heartbeat

I woke up to the sound of Santana's breathe. It was the softest, most gentle sound I'd ever heard. She was curled up against me, fast asleep. I didn't remember drifting off, but I didn't mind either. Santana had her head tucked under my chin and every exhale of breath was warm huff onto my collar bone. Her arms were tangled with mine, and somehow she had her legs draped over me. If we hadn't been pulled down by gravity down, it would have almost been like she fell asleep in my lap.

I inhaled as quietly as I could and adjusted my chin to kiss her forehead. I didn't think the twisted position Santana was laying in was good for her, with her legs facing one way and her torso another. I strained my neck and looked over at her bed. Careful to keep my movements slow, I slithered my arm out from underneath hers and then carefully picked one leg up at a time to move them off of my own. She shifted and murmured in her sleep, and I froze, half standing, half kneeling over her with my one arm still tucked under her body. When she stilled again, I looped my arm under her knees and pulled her up. She gasped awake, startling me a bit as I stumbled backwards. I looked down to watch for her mug, and then spun around a little when I couldn't find it.

"Britt-britt?" Santana mumbled, wrapping her arms around my neck, drawing my attention back to her. She looked sleepily up at me before nuzzling her nose against my collarbone. "Put me...down..." she mumbled. "I can walk..."

I think she figured out I was trying to move her to the bed, so I nodded and slowly let her feet touch the ground. She leaned into me, and I pulled her closer with my arm that was still wrapped around her back. I looked back down at the ground for the mug of tea, but only found my cell phone on the ground. I didn't remember putting it there.

"C'mon, lets get you in bed, okay?"

"Mm," she nodded. I hadn't even taken a step when she moved her hands to grip me and inched her lips up to my neck. I paused as she turned into me, dragging both her hands up my back slowly.

"Santana-" I was cut off by a staggered gasp that escaped my throat. Her tongue slid along my jawline until she found her way to my lips, and then pressed hers against mine. I sighed contently and kissed back. When her fingers dug into my back, I snapped up a little and realized she was more awake than I was.

"...aren't you tired?" I asked quietly, our lips barely apart. She shook her head and looked up at me. Her gaze was hypnotic. I had to shut mine for a moment, or else I felt like I would get lost in them. I held her arms tightly and pushed her gently towards the bed. She sat down, letting out a disgruntled huff of disappointment when I didn't join her. I twisted around and grabbed my phone from the floor.

I meant to just set an alarm for us, but when I opened my phone, I had a notification of a picture message. I didn't have a very good resolution on my phone, so I never really received or sent picture messages. The picture that appeared made my eyes bug a little. I was glad I had my back to Santana, because I didn't know if I should share it with her. I knew what happened to the mug now.

_"You two are adorable. Glad S is feeling better - Q"_

The image beneath the text was a snapshot of Santana and I on the chair. My phone sucked and the picture itself was dark, but I was glad to see that we just looked like we were cuddling and nothing more. I quickly closed the message and opened my alarm to set it.

"Britt, where are you going?" Santana said, her voice a little strained into a soft whine. I looked up and noticed I had moved towards the door as I snapped my phone shut. I smiled and glanced back at her, my hand stretching forward and clicking the lock on her door. We had decided a while ago to start locking our doors. Rachel had an annoying habit of knocking and waiting only a millimeter of a second before opening the door, and Quinn sometimes didn't knock at all. Luckily, apart from today, none of those intrusions had happened while we were in bed.

"No where," I muttered, smiling sweetly at her. I crawled onto her bed and sat next to her, pressing my forehead against hers and wriggling my nose. She giggled and I linked our pinkies.

"We should change for bed," I said, kissing her lightly. Her free hand moved forward and tugged at my shirt as she leaned in for a longer, deeper kiss.

"Yeah, okay," Santana said. Her voice was low and raspy. I stared at her and she stared back. Neither of us made any attempt to move to locate our pajamas. Instead, Santana lifted her hand and let her fingers tickle my cheek.

"Are you tired?" she asked quietly. I was, a little, but I shook my head. She leaned into me again, curling her fingers back and around my neck as she brought our lips together again. I had been expecting it, and yet she still caught me off guard. I think it was because she pressed so much weight into me. I parted my lips to inhale and then let her catch my lip between hers. She unlinked her pinkie from mine and pressed her hand to my stomach, pushing me back a little while keeping her hold on my neck to let me fall backwards gently.

"Santana..." I whispered. I knew where this was going, but I wasn't sure if it was okay. She'd been so upset earlier, and she wanted this to be special. I wanted to make it special for her.

"Mm," she hummed into me as she crawled over me, letting her leg slide over mine so that she had one on each side of my hips. I don't know when, but both my hands were resting on her stomach at the base of her shirt.

"Is this okay?" I muttered as she started to leave little wet kisses down my jaw and back to my neck. She paused and then sat up a little, running her hand through her hair to brush it back.

"Yes," she said. "Are you sure you're not sleepy?"

I blinked a few times and then rose a little, resting on my elbows. She wasn't focusing on earlier at all; she was just thinking of me. I smiled, brought our lips together, and then started to tickle my fingers under her shirt.

"Mm-" she giggled. Her skin felt warm beneath my touch. I let my hands explore beneath her shirt as I pressed my tongue against her lips. She stopped laughing and parted her mouth to let me in. Her hands found their way behind me again and her nails dug into my back.

"Britt," she moaned quietly. I sat up even more, tilting my head to let my tongue delve deeper into her mouth. She was struggling against me, trying to stay in control, but I wanted her to know I was just as invested as she was. Her hands moved up from my back to the base of my neck. I was having trouble moving my hands with her shirt in the way, so I pulled them back down to the base of her tank and started to tug the fabric upwards. She hesitated. The pause only let me gain control over her tongue.

I smirked and continued to inch her shirt up by her sides until I had to pull away from her mouth. I looked down and moved a bit to force her arms away from my neck so I could pull it off. She lifted her arms up and helped me remove it, barely giving me a chance to see anything before she pulled me back into the kiss. She started to move feverishly with her hands and her lips, scraping her nails into my sides and started to claw at the bottom of my shirt. I drew my hands back and helped, because she was hardly making any progress in her frantic endeavor to undress me. I pulled back and removed my own shirt, tossing it to the side with hers.

Santana pressed into me again, her tongue darting out immediately to find mine. I smiled as she pressed all her weight into me and forced me onto my back. Her nails were scratching over my stomach and moving up. I pressed my hands against her waist to pull her closer. She was so warm, and it felt so nice to have her against my exposed skin. I slid my hands down and started to pull at the waistband of her sweatpants. She squirmed a little, inching up so that I could pull them down. She wriggled her feet and kicked them off and then her hands slide down to mine. She froze and broke from our kissing. She was breathing heavily and when I opened my eyes, I saw her eyes were clenched closed. Her fingers were trembling against my waist, and I felt her heartbeat thumping rapidly against my chest. She was terrified.

"Santana...?" I whispered. Her eyes fluttered open and darted back and forth, searching mine. Her brow crinkled and she rested her forehead against mine.

"Sorry... I'm sorry," she muttered, closing her eyes again and tilting her head back and forth slightly. She had pulled her hands back up to cup my face, but she barely had a grip on me. Her hands were still shaking. "I'm messing this up."

I leaned forward and kissed her as soft and sweetly as I could, lifting my left hand up to her right and pressing my cheek against it. I twisted my head and kissed her hand and held my lips there for a moment, moving my other hand up her back and holding her close.

"Santana, look at me," I said quietly. Cautiously, she peeked at me. I gave her a gentle smile.

"We don't have to. We can stop-"

"I want to," she said quickly. She was still panting, and her whole body would move against mine as she breathed in and out.

"Okay, okay," I whispered, kissing her softly on her nose, then her cheek, and then the corner of her mouth. My hand had risen up to the back of her head, stroking it softly. I moved up a little when I noticed she closed her eyes again. "Santana, I like this."

She opened her eyes and looked down at me.

"Its good," I nodded. "Its not too fast. Slow is good."

Santana smiled weakly, but she still didn't look convinced. I twisted a little under her and she let me move her to our sides. I kissed her nose again.

"Remember when we went mattress shopping?" I said. "We had to lay down in every single one, some of them multiple times, before we found the one I wanted."

She nodded and I pulled away from her a little.

"We just have to figure out what we want," I shrugged. She let out a soft chuckle and lowered her head.

"I want _you_," she mumbled.

"I want you too," I said and leaned forward. I kissed her cheek and moved to her ear.

"This is just like dancing, okay?" I whispered. "Don't be scared to mess up."

"'kay," she whispered back. I pulled the hand I kissed to our sides and tangled my fingers together in hers.

"Take my hand," I sing-songed. "I'll teach you to dance."

"Don't sing," Santana giggled. I smiled. If I could get her to laugh, then maybe I could distract her from being nervous. I leaned in and wiggled my nose against hers before connecting our lips again. She relaxed when I squeezed her hand and then let me push her onto her back. I sat up a little and used my free hand to wiggle my pants down. She giggled again and helped me pull them down to my knees and then I struggled for a second to kick them off without kicking her.

"Okay," I said, leaning down into her. She sighed when I kissed her neck. I let my tongue trace circles on her skin. I pulled my tongue back in my mouth and then gently nibbled just below her ear. She let out a small moan, so I stayed there for a second. I let my free hand comb over her stomach, letting my fingers tickle over her ribs. She wriggled and I stopped my hand and looked up at her.

"Mm, no, it's good," she sighed, turning her head and pressing her lips to mine. She let her hand slide down my side and then up over my back. I shuddered at how delicately her fingers skated across my skin. I pushed our lips harder together, inhaling through my nose before slipping my tongue back into her mouth. Her hand tightened over my back and pulled the rest of my body down. She had worked her one leg out from underneath of me without my noticing and pressed her thigh between my legs. I gasped in surprise, and I felt her smile before she ran her tongue over my open lips.

Santana seemed to have found her confidence, so I decided to brave some new territory. My free hand was still pressed against her stomach, so I slowly slipped it down lower. She hesitated her kisses when she realized where I was going.

"No?" I asked in a hoarse pant. She shook her head and grasped my hand. I thought she wanted me to stop, but then she helped guide my hand lower. I dipped back down and started to work my tongue at the spot on her neck I'd found earlier as she let my hand slide over her underwear. Her fingers moved over top of mine and pressed down and I felt her whimper when my hand pressed against her. I nibbled her neck again and slid my fingers down a little, adding a little pressure. She reacted by raising a little, rocking her leg up against me. That made me bite down a little harder than I meant to.

"Britt," she groaned. She squeezed our tangled hand together and pulled it up above her head. I moved my kisses down to the crook in her neck, sucking on the soft skin there. I started moving my fingers in a circular motion, and she let out a louder, sort of strangled sound. She wiggled her hand around and felt around until she found my thigh and started to move up.

"Mm," I hummed once she ran her fingers down over my underwear. She started to match my gestures, eliciting a moan from deep in my throat. It felt so good, her touching me.

"B...Brittany," she stammered, and I pulled my lips away from her neck. We were rocking our hips at a slow and steady pace, and I pressed my forehead to hers as she let out soft gasps. I was panting, too. I moved our connected hand a little as I pressed more into her, squeezing her hand tightly in mine. I found her mouth again with mine and held there, just so I could have more contact. Her heart was pounding against mine, heavily, but not frantic. I liked that we were so close. I'd never felt so connected to anyone before. I knew Santana was nervous about us being girls, but I didn't think anything felt so right.

"Mm..!" Santana's gasp was muffled by my lips. I opened my eyes a little to look down at her. Her brow was furrowed and she started squirming beneath me. I felt her underwear soaking beneath my fingers, and the way she was twitching made me pull my hand away. I fished for her other hand and held it still, pulling it up to her side and ensnaring it in mine. She was gasping for air, so I nuzzled my nose into her cheek to give her a little room and just held her still.

After a few moments of lying there like that, she drew her hands out of mine and wrapped them around my back. Her cheek was pressed to mine, but she rolled her head a little to press her nose against it. I picked my head up a little and looked down at her, and she offered me a weak smile. Her hair was messy and she had beads of sweat on her brow, but she still looked so pretty.

"Hey," I whispered.

"Hi," she grinned. I leaned forward and kissed her.

"Not so scary, huh?"

"Mm-mm," she shook her head. She looked sleepy and cute. "Did you...?"

"No, but it's okay," I said. "You still made me feel really good."

"I can keep going," she murmured, sitting up to kiss me.

"Don't, it was perfect," I smiled against her lips. I fidgeted a little against her embrace so that I could wiggle my body off her and curl into her. I ran my fingers up to trace her collarbone and then lower to where her heart was. I held my palm there like she had before she kissed me the first time. She rose her hand up to my wrist and played with the bracelet around it.

"You sleepy?" she asked.

"Uh-huh," I nodded. She let her hand fall away and pulled me closer to her.

"Me too," she whispered.

"Santana?"

"Mm?"

"I found the mattress I want," I mumbled into the crook of her neck. She giggled and kissed my forehead. She slipped her hand over the one I had on her chest again, and I fell asleep listening to her breathing and feeling her heartbeat fall back into its regular rhythm.

* * *

><p>Something was tickling my nose. Whatever it was, it was light as a feather, ghosting over the bridge of my nose and now trailing down the concave to my eyelid. I shifted a little into Santana's shoulder and suddenly the touch was a little more prominent, coming to a stop at my cheek. I opened my eyes slowly and found Santana's immediately. She was staring at me with a soft smile on her face. I glanced over and saw her hand was resting on my cheek.<p>

"What are you doing?" I mumbled, blinking my bleary eyes. She leaned forward and kissed me. Even though I closed my eyes when she did, it woke me up.

"Nothing, I was just being silly," Santana whispered.

"Tell me," I urged. "I won't think it's silly."

Santana's eyes shifted a little back and forth, looking at mine as if to detect if I was lying.

"Okay," she said after a long pause. She started to drag her fingers against my face again, down over my jaw and then sliding them slowly over my lips. She had closed her eyes again.

"I just wanted to know it better," she muttered. "So I wouldn't forget." She opened her eyes again, looking away timidly and bowing her head down a bit. I smiled.

"That's not silly," I said, leaning in and kissing her lips. "But I _do_ think you're weird."

"How am I weird?" she said, opening her eyes and drawing back an inch.

"Why would you forget me?" I nuzzled her nose with mine. "I'm not going anywhere."

"It was hypothetical," she murmured.

"Is that an animal?" I mumbled sleepily.

"No... I think you're thinking of a hippopotamus," she shook her head. "It's like conjecture... speculation, maybe... how about a theory?"

"Theories are based on systems of logic," I said. "There's no rational reason for you to think that I'd be anywhere but here with you."

"You knew what hypothetical meant, didn't you?"

"Yeah," I mumbled against her lips. She smiled and sighed as she wrapped her arm around me and pulled me on top of her.

* * *

><p>Santana stood behind the bar over a sink, drying a glass with a towel. She usually hated clean up duty and stocking. It was one of the reasons she usually avoided earlier shifts at the bar despite it being slower. In fact, she didn't like it when the bar was slow - it meant less tips.<p>

Despite her distaste for afternoon shifts at Lucky Charms, Santana was humming quietly to herself as she placed the glass up on the shelf next to the sink. Her phone buzzed from her back pocket and she drew her hand back from the shelf to reach for it.

_I miss you. - Britt-Britt_

Santana smiled as she read the message and turned to lean against the bar counter as she tapped on the screen back.

_Me too. How did your midterm go today?Are you still at work?_

Santana set her hands down against the counter and looked up, jerking back at the close, smiling face of Tina.

"Jesus, the fuck, Tina?" Santana snapped, flipping her phone upside-down.

"What's got you smiling like christmas came early?" Tina said, her head propped up and tilted into her open palm.

"Nothing. What are you doing here? You don't work until later."

"I have to make up my shift too," Tina shrugged.

"Then go back to the hostess station," Santana said. Her phone buzzed and she picked it up and turned away from Tina.

_Midterm was great. Still worried about my Kinesiology midterm, but I think my routine for Friday will be good. I'm just getting out. How's LC? - Britt-Britt_

Santana tapped her response back, smiling broadly.

_Boring. Hardly anyone is here. Please say you'll visit?_

She looked up and rolled her eyes as she noticed Tina staring eagerly at her.

"What? You're still here?"

"Hey, I'm just as bored as you are," Tina shrugged. "And what, we're not friends anymore? We always talk."

"I'll talk to you when you stop giving me creepy looks," Santana said, furrowing her brow.

"I'm sorry, but I'm just intrigued as to why you're grinning from ear to ear," Tina said, leaning forward. Santana drew her hands back, pulling her phone closer to her chest, but then Tina grabbed an overturned glass and moved to the soda dispenser.

"Relax, I'm grabbing a drink," Tina said as she filled her glass. "Who are you texting?"

"Brittany," Santana shrugged. Her phone buzzed again, and she looked down.

"'Bout what?" Tina said quietly and sipped from her glass.

_I can't. I have to study, and you'd just distract me. ;) - Britt-Britt_

"-hmm?" Santana said, smiling as she typed a response. "Nothing, just wanted her to stop by 'cause it's so lame in here."

_You can study here, I bet it'd be less distracting than if I were home. ;) - xo_

"It'd be less lame if you'd stop texting and talk back to me," Tina said, straining a bit to look at Santana's iPhone screen. Santana turned and pocketed her phone.

"And what do you want to talk about then?" Santana said, leaning on her elbow as she rose her brow.

"How 'bout this?" Tina said, pulling out her own cell phone. Santana tilted her head to the side as Tina unlocked the screen and shoved the phone in her face.

"W-where- Wh-what?" Santana stammered. She looked back up at Tina, her eyes wide and a little panicked.

"Quinn sent it to me last night," Tina giggled as she pulled her phone back. Santana made a grab for it, but the Asian was too quick for her.

"What the hell was Quinn doing in my room?" Santana hissed.

"Checking on you, doofus," Tina said. "She told me you were pissed about Puck, but it looks like Brittany had it covered, huh?"

"Y-yeah, well, I _was_ upset. It was just a hug," Santana said defensively.

"Looks more like a cuddle," Tina said, looking down at her phone and swiveling out of Santana's reach again when she tried to stretch her hand forward to swipe at the phone.

"Shut up, maybe it was. I was sleepy," Santana said in a low growl. "Give me your phone, I'm deleting it."

"Oh? But don't you want a copy?" Tina grinned. Santana flushed.

"No, why would I want a copy?" she huffed.

"Well, Quinn sent it to Brittany," Tina shrugged. "I figured you'd want one too."

Santana froze. She turned and pulled her phone back out of her pocket, unlocking the screen to text Brittany back, but noticed she had a message from her already.

_I can't study in a bar. Plus, I'd be too tempted, and I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you. xx - Britt-Britt_

Santana gulped and shook her head. She had to concentrate.

_Did Quinn send you a picture of us yesterday?_

Tina was smirking when Santana looked back up, her one eyebrow cocked as she tried to read Santana's messages again. The Latina took a step back and leaned against the sink.

"You two certainly have gotten chummy," Tina smirked. "And don't deny it, we've got evidence." Santana's phone buzzed before she could reply.

_Oh. Yes, she did. It's pretty innocent considering what else we were doing last night, don't you think...? - Britt-Britt_

A second later, an image appeared beneath the text, the same one Tina had just showed her. Santana got a better look of it now and saw that, yes, they were cuddling, but her head as bent under Brittany's chin and their arms were tangled around each other. There weren't wandering hands lower than where they should have been and their lips weren't anywhere near each other. Another message appeared below it.

_How did you know about it? Is Quinn there? - Britt-Britt_

"Well, sure," Santana shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Haven't you ever just met someone and wanted to be their friend? Brittany is really cool."

_She sent it to Tina. I'm like 50/50 sure she knows. _

"I have," Tina said, smacking the counter as she pushed away from it. "With Mike."

Santana flushed. She was glad the lighting in the bar was terrible, because otherwise she was positive Tina would have noticed.

"I'm not talking about boyfriends," Santana said, shaking her head and furrowing her brow, trying to look intimidating.

_Who? Quinn or Tina? Just ask her why I got it sent to me and you didn't. If you don't act freaked out about it, she won't think so much of it. It's really not a big deal. - Britt-Britt_

Santana smiled at Brittany's message. It really wasn't. She had walked in on Quinn and Rachel snuggled up or passed out on the couch several times. And Tina always gave her hugs and even kisses on her forehead when she was upset. It wasn't really any different, except she didn't know Brittany as long as the others.

"How come I wasn't sent a copy?" Santana said, tilting her phone at Tina, showing her the picture on her own screen. "It's really cute."

"Oh?" Tina said, leaning back in her seat. She stared curiously at Santana for a moment, her head tilting to the side.

"Are you jealous?" Santana said with a sneer. "Britt pretty much knocked you and Quinn off the best friend title."

Tina opened her mouth to gasp. Her brow furrowed and she hastily grabbed her glass.

"After all I've done for you," Tina said in mock outrage. "You let some random stranger swoop in and suddenly we're nothing to you." She stood up from her chair and started to walk back towards the hostess counter.

"That's right, bitch," Santana called back. "Who needs you anyway?"

"Fine, next time you're upset, just call Brittany," Tina said, sticking out her tongue. Santana flipped her off, grinning playfully.

"I will," she shouted. She looked back down at her phone once Tina returned to her station and was attending to some new customers.

_What happened? Are you okay? - Britt-Britt_

Santana smiled and started tapping away at her phone.

_You're a genius, as always. I think we're clear. :7 _

"Excuse me," a voice called, and Santana looked up. One of the girls from the end of the bar had walked up and was looking at her with an annoyed expression. Santana slipped her phone back into her pocket and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yes?" Santana said, not bothering to feign a pleasant tone of voice. She would usually make more of an attempt, since she relied so much on her job, but the bitch was interrupting her text conversation with Brittany.

"If you're done taking advantage of hourly pay, do you think you could do your job and get us some drinks?"

Santana's brow rose. Yes, she hadn't really been doing her job, but it was a pretty slow night. She looked down the bar and noticed two other girls. They all looked similar, wearing their hair back in tight ponytails that reminded her of the strict policies Sue had for the Cheerios. One of the girls, the blonde one, sneered at Santana.

"Certainly," Santana said, forcing a smile and dropping her hands. "What can I get you?"

The first girl, a red-head, tilted her head triumphantly and stood a little straighter as she ordered drinks for the girls. Fruity cocktails that made Santana roll her eyes. She responded by telling the red-head the price of the drinks combined, and was thoroughly annoyed when she was handed exact change. Not even a tip? What a bitch.

Santana turned away and placed the money in the cash register, grumbling under her breath about how she hated Mondays and hated afternoon shifts even more. She was going to kill Puck for stealing away her Saturday shift and replacing with this crappy alternative. She was in the middle of mixing the drinks when she overheard some of the conversation that the three girls were having.

"-believe the difference?"

"She sucked last week," the red-head shook her head. "But her dance today was... like, ugh, I hate to admit it. It was really good."

"That makes me so fucking mad," the last girl said, a brunette. "I don't know where it comes from. She made it look so easy."

"Obviously, she had help," the blonde said. "There's no way she'd jump back from that terrible performance last week. I mean, our mid term was improvisation today too."

"No way that was improvised," the red-head sighed. "Pierce must have had some help."

Santana froze and almost spilled the fruit juice she was adding to the cocktail in front of her. She looked up at the bottles in front of her and at the mirror behind them to get a better look at the girls that were talking. They were wearing similar outfits to what she'd seen some girls in Mike's dance class wear. Shit. Where they really those girls?

"She got the song early," the blonde said. "That has to be it."

"Or maybe he helped her with a routine beforehand?" The brunette shrugged.

"Regardless, you _know_ how she convinced him for help, right?" The red-head sneered.

"Do you think that's what she was talking about last week, Madison?" The blonde asked. "About the friends with benefits thing?"

"Hell if I know," Madison sighed. "That girl is such an idiot."

Santana slammed the bottle of juice down on the counter. She could see her expression in the mirror. Her brow was furrowed and she could feel and see the twitch that made her nostrils flare. She grabbed the cocktail she had finished making and turned to look at the other two she had set on the counter. She inhaled and slide the first two down the bar, and the girls looked up as she approached.

"Here you go," Santana said, her voice a miraculously pleasant as she slammed the glass on the counter in front of the girls. It splashed over the edge of the glass and drenched her hand, but also sufficiently spilled onto the counter top and onto the nearest, red-headed dancer.

"What the fuck is your problem?" The red-head spat as she jumped from her seat.

"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry!" Santana said, pulling her hand back and reaching for the towel around her waist. She started drying off her hand quickly. "How clumsy of me. I'll make you another one?"

"Avery, come on, let's go to the bathroom, that's going to stain," the blonde said quickly as the red-head gave Santana a glare. She reluctantly let the blonde girl tear her away and Santana shot the remaining dancer a glare as she turned to make the cocktail.

"What's goin' on?" Rory appeared at Santana's side, seeing the spilt cocktail over the counter.

"Nothing," Santana hissed, slamming the towel into his chest. "Can you clean that up?"

"Yeah, o' course," he nodded. "Did they spill it? You don' have to make 'em 'nother one if they did."

"No, it was my bad," Santana snarled.

"Heh, that's not like ya, Santana," Rory laughed. "'scuse me, miss." He picked up the glass and pulled it behind the counter and then moved the other two glasses as he started to wipe the counter. Madison stared wide-eyed at him and then looked back to Santana. Her eyes narrowed in the mirror as she caught Madison's gaze, as if daring the dancer to say something. With the other two girls gone, the brunette looked terrified.

"You alright, miss?" Rory said, waving his hand a little distance away from Madison's face. She smiled weakly and nodded, looking away from Santana. He looked back at the Latina and shook his head as he approached her.

"Ya can't be fightin' with the customers, Santana," he whispered as he slapped the towel over the edge of the sink. "My dad'll kill ya."

"You're dad loves me," Santana said, rolling her eyes.

"I know. Yer like fam'ly," he said, patting her on the back. "But this is his business. He can't protect ya if someone complains."

"I know," Santana muttered. Her shoulders dropped a bit and she set the juice for the cocktail down gently. "I'll be nice."

"You want me to take over for ya?"

"Please," Santana nodded. "I can't handle any more idiotic debauchery - they sound like brainless Cheerios."

"Isn't that a cereal?" Rory asked. Santana cracked a weak smile and shook her head.

"Go back to Ireland, Rory," Santana said, raising her hand and ruffling his hair.

"I'm just wonderin' how that's an insult," he shrugged. "I mean, the bar is called _Lucky Charms_. You American's are always relatin' things to cereal."

"Rory, your _dad_ named this place after a cartoon leprechaun," Santana rolled her eyes.

"Ye'd think we'd have more marshmellows, then," he finished mixing the drink Santana made and slide it down the counter. The girls had returned from the bathroom and he gave them a wink.

"Oh good, a _new_ bartender," Avery sighed.

"Oh good, I'm going to leave now and get out of _high school_," Santana said as she walked away.

"Talk to Tina," Rory called out. Santana waved her hand lazily behind her and walked out from behind the counter towards the hostess station.

* * *

><p>"-are you really going to bring up that picture, <em>again<em>?" Santana sighed, leaning against the hostess podium, bumping her hip into Tina's playfully.

"Look, though, c'mon," Tina said, shoving her cell phone towards Santana. "It's so _cute_."

"Ugh, stop," Santana said. "I think I'd rather deal with those bitches than talk to you."

"You and Britt are the cause of this sugary sweet cuteness," Tina said, taking her phone back and staring at the picture. "Ugh, I think I just got diabetes."

"Shut up," Santana rolled her eyes. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she twisted as she pulled it out.

_You get off soon~ 3 How long does it take you to get home? - Britt-Britt_

"Who's that?" Tina said, craning over Santana's shoulder. "Who be textin' ya?"

"Stop being such a freak," Santana said, raising her shoulder and nudging Tina's face away. "It's just Brittany."

"You get off in like ten minutes," Tina said. "You two hang out too much."

"We don't," Santana said, puffing out her lower lip as she texted Brittany back.

"More like you can't get enough of each other," Tina winked, knocking her elbow into Santana's arm.

"Shut up, don't be weird," Santana rolled her eyes. "Sucks to be you, having to pull a back to back shift," Santana said, changing the subject.

"Ugh, I know," Tina whined. "_Nothing _happens on Monday nights. Why are we even open?"

Santana's phone buzzed again.

_What do you want to do when you get home? ;) - Britt-Britt_

Santana's cheeks flushed and she turned away from Tina to reply.

_Maybe watch a movie? Get our cuddle on?_

"You know the shifts I have without you are awful?" Tina continued and pressed her forehead against Santana's arm. "I mean, Rory's great and all, but seriously. It's like he lived in box, not a different country. Do you know he has no idea what peanut butter is?"

"Really?" Santana asked. "No, I didn't."

"And I can't ever convince Quinn or Rachel to come down here," Tina pouted.

"Yeah, they don't know how to have any fun," Santana rolled her eyes. "Quinn's always studying, and Rachel's always trying to get everyone to do vocal exercises all the time. A lot more, recently, it seems."

"That's because you're in the middle of your mid-terms. How is that going for you, by the way?"

"Eh," Santana shrugged and rose her phone to her face when it buzzed in her hand.

_I was thinking we could do something more... like last night. ;P - Britt-Britt _

Santana's eyes widened and she clicked the lock button immediately. Her cheeks grew redder and she felt her temperature rise from embarrassment.

"What?" Tina said, glancing at Santana's phone. The screen was black, so she looked back up at Santana's face.

"N-nothing," Santana shook her head, unable to quickly find a better response. "I'm uh, off the clock now."

"Uh-huh," Tina said, propping her head up with her hand against the podium. "That's definitely nothing."

"You're too nosy," Santana grumbled and stepped out from the podium.

"You're not even going to say goodbye?" Tina frowned. Santana rolled her eyes and twirled around.

"See ya tomorrow," she said and gave the Asian a quick hug.

"Have fun with Brittany," Tina winked. Santana jabbed her hand at Tina's waist in a harsh poke, causing Tina to jerk back in surprise.

"Stop it," Santana hissed. "You're reading too much into things."

"Fine, fine," Tina waved her hands in the air. "See you."

Santana waved lightly and walked to the back of the bar. She paused to give Rory a nod and a wave as well. She was glad those girls were gone now. The bar had fallen back into its usually Monday night drag of nothing eventful. She went to the employee area and grabbed her coat and her purse, struggling with the sleeve of her jacket for a second before finding the back exit. She opened the door with her arm as she fished for her keys from her purse and walked out into the back alley behind the bar.

"-and then, she told him-"

Santana looked up and saw the dancer girls from earlier. Two of them held cigarettes lightly in their hands as they leaned against the wall, and the third was standing in front of them. She had been talking, but Santana's appearance caused all three of them to pause and stare at her.

"Finally," the blonde said.

"I'm sorry, I don't do autographs," Santana said with a shrug.

"Funny," Avery said, pushing away from the wall and dropping her cigarette on the ground. "She thinks she's funny."

"Oh, hon, no," Santana shook her head. "I'm just a lot smarter than you."

"Tara, hold this," Avery said, smacking her purse into the blonde's hands as she stepped towards Santana. "Look, bitch. I don't expect trash like you to understand hospitality, but I do expect that if you're going to work in this country, that you know the basics of doing your job."

"_Oh,_" Santana shook her head and tossed her purse down against the pavement. She rose her hand up to her head and started fumbling with her earring. She nodded her head and her mouth turned down into a frown. "I get it, alright." She pulled off her earrings and then pocketed them.

"I'll tell you what," Santana said, sniffing as she rose her hand to brush her nose. "I'll let that go if you just walk away. Right now."

"No," Avery said, crossing her hands over her chest. "Because I still want to know what the hell made you think you could spill a drink on me, ruin my clothes, and get away with it."

"Maybe I just don't like you," Santana said, raising her hands in the air. "Maybe you said something that offended me."

"And what, exactly, would that be?" Avery said, stepping closer.

"You and your duo of skanks here gots a problem," Santana said, nodding at Madison and Tara. "A problem with my homegurl, Brittany. And that just doesn't fly with me."

Avery leaned back a little and then glanced to the other dancers. When she looked back, she had a smirk on her face.

"So you're Pierce's friend," Avery said. "I didn't think she had anyone else."

"And yet girls like you will do anything to tear her down," Santana shook her head. "Why's that? Afraid you can't feel good about yourselves otherwise? Is she a threat to you? Too talented?"

Avery advanced forward and the other two girls stepped in closer as well. Santana didn't budge until Avery pushed her back towards the exterior wall of the bar. Santana snapped her hands up and out to push Avery's hands away and keep her from being pinned, stepping aggressively forward to keep from being cornered.

"Step off," Santana said. "I don't need to ugly your faces any more than they already are."

"Why do you care so much?" Avery said, pushing her hand at Santana's shoulder, knocking her backwards again. "You're 'homegurls', right? What, is that code? You peddle the street corners with her or something?" Avery sneered as she glanced back at Tara. Santana took the momentary distraction as an opening and swung her fist into Avery's face.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

**As usual, a song: .com/watch?v=NVk4vENObiI - Heartbeat by Enrique Iglesias ft. Nicole Scherzinger.**

**My comment on the chapter itself: Completely embarrassed. Skipping that, the chapter turned out a ton longer than I anticipated it to be, so I cut it in half. I actually wrote it this time, so yay, you'll get an update tomorrow. :) **

**And as promised, I have a present for you: **tinyurl . com / 7h27nqo****


	20. Can I tell you a Secret?

Avery recoiled from the force of Santana's fist against her cheekbone, crashing into Madison as she stumbled back. The red-headed dancer looked dumb-founded for all of the split-second pause before Santana dove forward again. Tara rushed forward and tackled her from around the middle as the Latina landed another punch with her other hand.

"Damn it," Avery spat as Tara and Madison moved to try to pin Santana down. She kicked and squirmed, but they had caught her arms. As Avery caught her footing, Santana cracked her forehead down on Tara's head. The blonde reeled back in pain and Santana managed to get her other arm free from the small brunette dancer.

"Dilo otra vez! Atrevete!" Santana tackled Avery again, and the girl screamed as they both crashed into Tara and Madison. It was chaotic, but Santana was determined to beat the crap out of them.

"Voy a joderte! ¿Tengo que decirlo en Inglés? I will _end _you_. _Nadie se mete con_ Brittany_!"

* * *

><p>There was a loud crashing sound. Rory looked up from the bar as Tina lifted a napkin dispenser off one of the tables while she moved to wipe it. Another bang, followed by a shout, caused her to look up. She and Rory scrambled towards the sound that was coming from the back exit.<p>

"Fuck, get off!" Avery screamed. There were a tangle of girls, Santana at the top. She had her arm pulled back to make another swing at the girl's face. Her other hand was gripping hair.

"Shit," Tina dashed forward and Rory followed quickly after. Tina managed to pry Santana's hand off Avery and Rory stepped between them to keep the other girls back. The instant Santana wasn't death gripping any of them or pinning them down, the trio scrambled upright and fled. Santana was struggling against Tina and Rory had to step in and grab her arms. He hugged them tightly at her sides. She was shouting in Spanish, and none of them could understand her.

"Sí, es mejor que correr! Así es como lo hacemos en Lima Heights Adjacent!"

Rory held her tightly until she stopped squirming. Eventually she stopped screaming profanities and pressed her forehead into his chest, slumping completely in his arms. She didn't have the strength to fight his restraints.

"What the hell, Santana?" Tina said, pulling away once she wasn't poised to attack anymore.

"Tina, tha's not gonna help," Rory warned.

"No, shit, what the hell!" Tina said, running her hands through her hair and twirling around. "Are you fucking insane? Did they start this or did you? You could lose your job, Santana!"

"I don't give a fuck," Santana spat as she twisted her head away from Rory's chest. He was still holding her tightly in case she decided to turn on Tina. "They deserved it!"

"So _you_ started it," Tina said, shaking her head. "What the fuck!"

"It doesn't matter," Santana shouted. "They're the bitches that made Brittany cry!"

Tina froze and Santana slumped into Rory again.

"They called her a slut," Santana murmured. "That's... That's not okay."

"Santana," Tina said cautiously. Rory rose his brow at her and shook his head. Tina sighed and looked around. Santana's purse was on the ground, and a few feet from them, where the brawl went down, was Santana's cell phone. Tina walked over and scooped it up. She dusted it off and accidentally hit the home button. A message appeared on the screen.

_Are you coming home soon? - Britt-Britt_

Tina's brow furrowed and she glanced back at Santana. Rory had moved her to set her down against the wall, and she had her hand pressed to her forehead. There was blood streaming down her arm, and as Tina got closer, she noticed that Santana had a deep cut in the middle of her left eyebrow. There were other areas that were scraped and puffy, but the worst were the cuts.

"Rory, get the first aid kit," Tina said and sat down next to Santana. She passed the Latina her cell phone.

"Britt texted you," she said softly. Santana looked up and took her phone from Tina. She looked too tired to care that Tina might have seen the message. She clicked the home button and swiped her thumb against the lock screen to read it. Tina looked away, giving Santana some space. The Latina clicked the lock button before bothering to type anything and sighed. She let her head fall back against the wall and ran her hand through her messy hair.

"I'm going to call her and have her pick you up," Tina said, sitting up a little to fish her phone out of her pocket.

"Don't," Santana shook her head. "I'm fine. I'll make it home by myself."

"If you can get up by yourself and make it to your car, I'll let you drive home," Tina said, glancing back at Santana. The Latina made an attempt to sit up, but winced as pain jolted up her arm. Tina rose her phone to her ear.

"Seriously, don't," Santana whined.

"Look, you're bleeding all over the place, I'm not letting you go home alone. Stop being such an idiot-"

_"Hello?"_

"Brittany, it's Tina," Tina said into the phone.

* * *

><p>"Who's an idiot?" I said. I knew it was Tina, I had her in my contacts. Why did she sound upset?<p>

_"No, not you. Santana-"_

"Santana's not an idiot," I said defensively. I sat up from my bed. Lord Tubbington shifted uncomfortably in my lap as I moved.

_"Okay, she's not. Calm down - look, I need you to come down to Lucky Charms."_

"Why? What's wrong?" I said. She had told me to calm down, but her tone of voice sounded just as concerned.

_"Santana got in a fight-"_

_"-shut up, Tina,"_ I heard Santana grunt. _"I'm fine, Britt."_

_"No, you're not,"_ Tina spat back. _"I don't want her to drive herself home. Can you come down and pick her up? She needs her car to get to school tomorrow - if she can even get up tomorrow."_

"What happened?" I said quickly, shoving Lord Tubbington off of me as I scrambled up. He growled and hissed at me, but I was already putting on my boots. "Where is she hurt? Is she bleeding?"

_"Yeah, a little bit. Her arm and one of her eyebrows is busted open. I don't know what all happened, Brittany. Oh, Rory, good, you found the first aid kit."_

_"Yeah, but I don' know how to do firs' aid,"_ Rory said. He was quieter, but I still heard him.

_"I don't really either. We can just put a band aid on the cuts, right?"_

"I know first aid," I interjected.

_"You do?"_ Tina sounded surprised.

"Yes, don't do anything, I'll be there in five minutes, ten, tops," I said, racing down the stairs and grabbing my keys off the hook next to the door.

"Where are you going?" Rachel said from the couch, a mouthful of food. I glanced back at her and shook my head.

"Picking up Santana," I said and left.

* * *

><p>I ran into Lucky Charms and Rory met me at the doors. He led me quickly to the back, gesturing for me to quiet when I opened my mouth to speak. He grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to him.<p>

"My dad'll kill us if 'e finds out 'bout this," he murmured. "An' we don' wanna get Santana in trouble."

"Okay," I said as he lead me to the back. When he opened the door, I was greeted by Tina, and she pulled me through the doorway. I saw Santana slumped against the wall, but the moment she saw me, she tried to sit up a little and not look as pathetic. I sat down next to her and looked up at Rory.

"Can you get me a towel and some water?"

"Hot or cold?" He asked.

"I guess, hot," I shrugged. I turned back to Santana and placed my hand under her chin. She kept squirming and pulled her head away.

"I'm fine," she grumbled.

"Stop it," I swatted her hand away gently when she tried to push me away. She quieted and let me lift her chin up. I tilted her head to the side and ran my other hand over her cheek as gently as possible. It was already getting a little blue. The cut on her eyebrow was definitely the worst that I could see so far, but I didn't know what all happened.

"Sit up, come here," I said, pulling her forward as slow as I could so she didn't hurt herself. I helped her remove her jacket and then got a better look at her arms. Her right arm had a long gash with rocks and debris mixed in the blood. I pulled her other hand forward and noticed her knuckles were covered in blood.

"Not mine," she assured me with a grin.

"That's nothing to be proud of," I scolded and her grin vanished. "What happened?"

"Remember those girls from your class?" Santana said, twisting and spitting at the ground next to her. I saw that it was red, and put my hand back on her cheek.

"Open your mouth," I said and she complied. She'd bit her tongue. Blood pooled on it as she held it up for me to see. "Close."

"Well, guess who showed up here tonight?" Santana sighed. Tina rolled her eyes and knelt down to open the first aid kit.

"And they just attacked you?" I said, my brow furrowed. Santana didn't even know anyone from my classes. Not that I was aware.

"No, I spilt their drinks on them," Santana shrugged.

"Why?" I asked, moving my hands down to inspect her knee. It was scuffed and bleeding a little, but not nearly as bad as her arm or her eyebrow.

"They were talkin' smack about you," Santana said. "Then I beat them up."

"You shouldn't have done that," I shook my head. "How many were there?"

"Three. I got 'em good though," she grinned again. I rolled my eyes and pushed her back a little.

"Does anywhere else hurt? You're ankles okay? Wrists?"

"I'm fine, Brittany," Santana said. "Tina is just being a big wuss 'cause I'm bleeding."

Rory appeared from the bar exit with several towels and a pot of water.

"Here, miss," he said as he sat down. "Brittany, right?"

"Yes," I said and gave him a nod. "Thank you."

"She's not fine," Tina sighed. "I think you might need stitches on your eyebrow."

"It's not a big deal," Santana groaned. I gripped her hand tightly and she looked up at me.

"The more you complain, the longer this is going to take," I said. "Because I have to clean that and bandage it before anything gets in it. So, does it hurt anywhere else?"

She shrugged. I sighed at how noncompliant she was being and then moved my hands up to her shoulders. I pressed down on her collarbone on each side.

"This hurt?" I said. She shook her head. I let my hands slide down lower, and her eyes widened a little. I rose a brow, but she shook her head, and then I pressed lightly high up against her rib cage, just under her arms.

"Here?"

"No," she mumbled. I let my hands slide down, pressing at each rib lightly. She shook her head and didn't say anything until I reached the bottom of her ribcage on her left side. She winced.

"Here?" I said. It came out as a whisper.

"Just a little," she murmured.

"Rory, can you turn around?" I asked. He looked at me puzzled, and then I started to pull up the hem of Santana's dress. He quickly shuffled around when I did that. I rolled it up and inspected her side. Nothing was bleeding, so I poked her bottom rib again gently with my fingers. She didn't wince, but she let out a little grunt.

"Does it hurt when you breath?" I asked.

"No, not really," Santana said. "Is it broken?"

"I don't think so," I said, pulling her dress back down. I noticed Tina was watching us intently. I wasn't sure if it was because she had no idea what to do or for some other reason, but I suddenly felt a little weird for pulling Santana's dress up like that.

"It's probably bruised. I can take you to the hospital if you want to get x-rays done," I said and let her sit back again.

"That's okay. Can you just bandage me up?" she asked. I looked up at her and she had her lower lip puffed out a little. She looked absolutely pathetic, and I nearly leaned in to kiss her.

"Yeah, just sit tight, okay?" I smiled. I had Tina help me find the right sized bandages from the kit and then went about trying to clean the cuts. I prayed the kit had enough disinfectants. The cut on her arm took the longest to take care of because of its size, but I made sure to take my time with her eyebrow. It wasn't as deep as I thought, the blood just pooled over it and made it look worse than it was. I had Tina help me find a butterfly adhesive strip.

"Don't," Santana pulled away from me as I tried to place the bandage on her forehead. "It hurt enough when you cleaned it."

"Just relax," I said. She squirmed again when I tried to place it down. I pushed my knee down on her legs and forced her still.

"I swear, if you don't let me put this on," I hissed. She gave me a look and tried to raise her brow at me and then winced when she did.

"Fuck," she grimaced.

"Look at me," I said softly. She looked up and I smiled. Her eyes were dark, and I stared at her for a moment until she smiled back at me. I waited another second and then pressed the adhesive strip down on the cut.

"Ouch!" she hissed.

"Whatever, it's on," I said, patting her knee gently as I sat up. "C'mon, let's get you to your car."

* * *

><p>Tina helped me walk Santana to her car. I was surprised at how quiet Tina was over the whole ordeal, especially because she had sounded really upset on the phone. I understood why - if Santana lost her job over this, it would really hurt her financially. I didn't know what Santana's relationship was with her parents, but I got the feeling she paid for everything herself.<p>

"Drive home carefully," Tina said to me once we had Santana in the car. "She'll kill you if you wreck her car."

"It's not far," I said. I wasn't even sure why Santana drove to work, but maybe it was because of this weird shift she had picked up, because she had come straight from class.

"Hey, Brittany?" Tina said as I walked around to the other side of Santana's car. I paused at the door and looked up at her.

"Do you...?" She started, but shook her head. I tilted mine to the side, twisting Santana's keys in my hands.

"Do I...?" I asked cautiously.

"It's nothing," Tina waved her hand as she headed backwards towards the bar. "Just look out for her, okay? You obviously know better than I do about first aid and all, but if she's feeling worse in the morning, take her to the hospital, okay? Or call me, if you have class."

"Will do," I nodded. I looked after her as she turned around and walked away, and I wondered for a second if I should have said something more. Santana had been worried earlier about the picture Quinn had sent Tina and I, but it seemed so unimportant now. I opened the door to Santana's car and slide into the driver's seat.

Santana moved her hand up and over to reach for mine once I started her car. I looked over and saw her look weakly up at me. Her expression was hard for me to read, and I wasn't sure if she was sad or lost in thought. I held her hand tightly and brought it up to my lips.

"You shouldn't have done that, Santana," I said quietly.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I just got so mad."

"What if you lose your job?"

"Why does everyone keep saying that? I don't care," Santana shook her head. "I wasn't going to let them talk about you like that." She sighed and looked down at our hands. "They made you so upset last week."

"And you think they'll stop because you beat them up?" I said, furrowing my brow. "Santana, if they knew you did this because of me, what makes you think they're going to be nicer to me? If anything, it'll make things worse."

Santana slowly looked up at me. Her lips pursed together and her eyes were a little wide. I stared at her a moment, trying to figure out what the look meant. Then, I realized what it was. Santana looked guilty.

"I just wanted to defend you. They're so wrong about you," Santana shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think that through. What if...what if I come to your school and pick you up? Then they won't bother you, right?"

"Santana," I squeezed her hand lightly. "I'm not a child. And they're not going to beat me up or anything. They're rich, spoiled jerks, but they're not going to risk violence. Not at Juilliard.

"I'm used to how they treat me. Besides, you have class whenever I do."

"Not on Friday. That's when you have class with them again, right?" Santana leaned over and pressed her head against my shoulder.

"Yeah..." I looked down at her. She strained to look up at me.

"Maybe my presences will instill fear in them. Make them step off," Santana said, and then let out a small chuckle. "It'll be like high school."

"What?" I didn't see the connection or why she was laughing.

"I forget sometimes you went to an all girls school. No one ever picked you up between classes?"

"No, not really."

She sat up a little, but winced as she did so. I stretched over to pull her seat belt over her, but she snatched my lips in hers. She lifted her hand to cup my cheek, but it was her bandaged arm and her fingers were trembling, so I pulled away and kissed her hand. I finished buckling her in her seat and then turned back to the steering wheel.

"Are you mad at me?" Santana whispered. I froze for a second and looked back at her.

"No, never," I said as my brow wrinkled. "I was just really worried, Santana."

"Please don't be," Santana said, lifting our conjoined hand up and bouncing it against the center console. "I'm okay. And whatever happens with my job, I'll figure it out."

"But you need your job, Santana," I mumbled. "You were saving up, right? For your grandmother to visit?"

Santana tensed. I could tell by her hand.

"Don't worry about that," she said softly. "If it doesn't happen this year, maybe I'll go home for Christmas or something." She smiled weakly at me, and I knew she was just trying to make me feel better. It wasn't one of those smiles she normally gave me. It looked forced.

"Brittany, please trust me," Santana said. "I got you a free mattress, right? I'm good at figuring things out. I'm a fighter."

"I wish you didn't have to fight so much," I mumbled. I lifted my hand out of hers to shift the gears of her car into reverse and then slowly backed out of the parking spot. Once we were driving forward again, I felt for her hand. She gripped it tightly and sighed.

"Do people really bully you a lot?" Santana asked quietly. I glanced at her quickly and looked back at the road. It wasn't that late, but there weren't really any other cars around us.

"I try not to let it bother me," I shrugged. It was half-hearted, and I knew it. I could feel Santana staring at me, and for once I wished she wouldn't. I felt like a sheet of paper and she could see right through me.

"I wish you'd gone to McKinley," Santana murmured.

"Your high school?"

"Yeah...but I guess we had it bad too," Santana shrugged. "Bullying was a huge problem. We got slushied a lot for being in Glee club. And poor Kurt...he was harassed to the point he got death threats. He switched schools for a while."

"Really? That's awful." I came to a stop at a traffic light and looked at Santana. "Why did he get bullied so much?"

"...he was the only out gay kid in our school," Santana shrugged lightly. She looked away from me, and I could tell she didn't want to talk more about that. I squeezed her hand.

"At least you guys had each other," I said softly. "Your Glee club sounds like it was a really supportive group. I get what Mike said about you all being a rag tag bunch."

"He said that? When?"

"When I talked to him on the phone about moving in with you guys," I shrugged. "It's still awful you guys got bullied so much, but...you guys were really lucky to have each other. You all are still really close friends." I turned my attention back to the road as the light changed and turned down the street our apartment was on. Santana was silent for a little while, and then she brought my hand up to her lips.

"All the more reason I wish you'd have gone to my school," Santana mumbled.

"McKinley was a big school, right?" I said, trying to recall what I could remember about Lima when I lived there. I knew that a bunch of collective middle schools in the area ended up pooling together into one large school. If we hadn't moved, I think I would have gone to that school.

"Yeah, I think it was the largest in the county," Santana nodded.

"We probably wouldn't have even known each other, let alone been friends," I said quietly. I pulled up to our apartment building and parked in Santana's parking spot.

"What? No, we totally would have been friends," Santana said, sitting up more as I turned off the car. I shook my head and looked up at her.

"You said you were a cheerleader. You were really popular and stuff," I shrugged. "I would have just fallen back into the crowd. Maybe it would have been just the same. I'd probably still be picked on - I was in middle school, too. There's no difference."

"It would have been," Santana said, shuffling with her seatbelt and then leaning in to grasp both my hands in hers. "Different, I mean. We would totally have been friends. Best friends."

I smiled sheepishly, because she tinkered with my bracelet as she said that.

"You would have joined Cheerios with me and Quinn, 'cause we didn't have a pom squad, or anything like that outside of dance classes," Santana said, grinning at me. "And then you'd have been in Glee club, too. I wouldn't have let anyone make fun of you, ever. We would have definitely been friends, Brittany."

"How do you know?" I said. As enthusiastic as Santana was about something we could only speculate, I wasn't convinced.

"Because... I knew the moment I met you that I liked you," She said softly. Her fingers ran up my arm and slid back down. I slowly looked up at her and held her gaze. Even though she was bruised and scuffed up, she was smiling at me.

"What, when I came in for the roommate interview? I still don't get that. I was so awkward," I shook my head and broke our gaze. She lifted her bandaged hand to my cheek and gently made me look back at her. I think she knew I couldn't resist against her hurt hand.

"I mean when I first met you," Santana said. "That day you bumped into me at Mike's dance class."

"You...you remembered that?" My cheeks flushed. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to mine. I was scared I'd bump her cut on her eyebrow, but she didn't seem bothered.

"I remember sitting in the back of the room waiting for class to start, and you were so focused on dancing, you didn't notice anyone else was there," Santana said quietly. "I thought for a second you were going to be the instructor - I didn't even know Mike taught there."

"I know," I giggled. "You were mad at Quinn about that."

"I was!" Santana smiled. "But I thought you were really sweet. And how you panicked when you read the clock wrong. It was cute. And funny."

"Oh my god," I drew back, trying to hide my face in Santana's hand. She laughed and pulled me closer.

"Brittany...you caught my attention by the way you danced, and I liked you the moment I heard you talk," she whispered. She kissed me lightly. It was so soft and gentle, I closed my eyes. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Yes," I whispered back. I slowly opened my eyes when she hesitated.

"I bumped into you on purpose," she smiled and wiggled her nose against mine.

"I felt so bad about that," I muttered. I placed my hand on her hand and kissed her again. I think I got lost in kissing her, because after a few seconds, I had moved into her and she winced.

"Sorry," I squeaked. She laughed and gave me a soft peck.

"Can I tell you a secret?" I whispered.

"Please do. I want to know everything about you," Santana murmured.

"I liked you the moment I met you too."

"I know," Santana grinned. "You stayed and watched us dance."

"I stayed to watch _you_ dance," I mumbled. My eyes felt heavy, and I stretched forward to grasp her lips with mine. I was careful not to press too hard, but I couldn't help myself. I don't think I could _not_ kiss her now.

"I'm glad," she said when she pulled back a little to catch her breath. "I'm glad we bumped into each other, then."

"Mm," I hummed, holding my lips against hers for a moment. Maybe Santana was right. Whether or not I had gone to her school, I think we were destined to meet. She intrigued me so much just from a chance encounter like that. The moment I set my eyes on her, I couldn't keep them off her. We would have been friends in high school. More than friends. Best friends. Friends that did...whatever this was.

"Do you think we would have gone to prom together?" I whispered, kissing her again. She paused.

"We didn't have a prom," I murmured. "At my school." Santana leaned forward and pushed me back a little with her lips.

"Definitely," she mumbled into me. "I know how much you like to dance."

* * *

><p>Quinn was on the phone when I walked in with Santana's arm draped over my shoulder. Rachel got up and hurried to Santana's other side to help me carry her in.<p>

"Tina called," Rachel said. "Santana, are you okay?"

"Fine," Santana said, smiling lightly. "Just a few scratches."

"You're so stupid," Quinn shook her head as she got off the phone. I looked up from helping Santana to the couch. I furrowed my brow at Quinn.

"A fight? Seriously? How old are you, Santana?" Quinn said, tossing her cell phone at the couch. Santana barely avoided being hit by it.

"The fuck, Fabray!" Santana spat. I leaned forward and placed my hand on her shoulder to keep her still. She looked and opened her mouth, but I shook my head before she could speak. She closed it and pouted.

"You could lose your job," Quinn said angrily. "Or worse, what if they press charges? Do you ever think anything through? You're such an idiot."

"Stop it, Quinn," I said sternly. "Sure, she made a rash decision, but that doesn't give you the right to call anyone stupid."

Quinn froze, and the way she looked at me made me realize everyone in the room was giving me the same puzzled expression. I looked down and saw that I had risen to my feet, and my hands were balled up at my sides. I wrung my hands at my sides to unfurl them, trying not to look so mad.

"...just stop yelling at her," I said, quieter. "She's had enough to deal with today, and she was just defending me."

"Brittany," Santana murmured. I looked down, and she reached for my hand and pulled me back into the seat next to her. "Quinn didn't mean it like that. She's just worried. They're all worried."

"No, she's right," Quinn said, sliding into the recliner. Rachel finally sat down as well, looking a little too scared to say anything.

"I'm sorry, Brittany," Quinn sighed.

"Me too," I nodded. We sat in silence for a while. I noticed Santana was still holding my hand, but I didn't dare move to draw attention to it while we were all so quiet.

"Did you guys eat yet?" Rachel said softly. "I made pasta. It's vegan, but...I still think you guys will like it."

"It's good," Quinn nodded.

"Alright, fork it over," Santana sighed. She sounded like she was trying to be mean, but she smiled after she said it. Rachel brightened and got up to scramble into the kitchen. Quinn got up to help, and once she did, Santana leaned into me and pressed her head against my shoulder.

"Thanks for standing up for me," Santana mumbled.

"You did for me, why wouldn't I do the same?" I said quietly.

"Did you still want to watch a movie?" she whispered. I pulled my hand out of hers and swatted it gently.

"You're not in any state for that," I hissed. She retracted and looked at me innocently.

"I really did just mean a movie," she giggled.

"How much did you want, Santana?" Rachel called over to us.

"How much is left?" Santana grinned.

"Okay, if you're that hungry, you can't possibly be that hurt. Get off your lazy butt and come here and get it," Quinn rolled her eyes. Santana pouted, but I smacked her thigh and pulled her up. She wobbled and fell into me. I had the feeling she did it on purpose, because when I caught her, she grabbed my waist instead of my arm.

"If that's the case, maybe we can still watch something," I whispered in her ear before pulling her forward to the kitchen with my arm looped in hers. I glanced back and her cheeks were crimson.

* * *

><p>"Santana!" I moved to my window and unlatched it. She had a mischievous grin on her face until she tried to scramble in and bumped her arm against the window sill. Then she let out a small cry of pain, followed by what I was sure was the Spanish word for 'fuck.' It seemed to be her favorite English profanity, anyway.<p>

"I was going to come over to your room once I picked a movie," I mumbled, helping her upright. She nuzzled my neck with her nose and wrapped her arms around me instead of replying right away. I gave her a light squeeze and then just held her for a while.

"I couldn't wait," she murmured.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, even though I had just helped her up to her room not five minutes ago. She pressed her lips softly against my neck and then pulled away a bit to look up at me.

"Tired," she admitted. "I'm feeling better than I was."

"So you admit you weren't fine?" I said, raising my brow. I sat down on my bed and pulled her into my lap. She scooted a little closer to me, and rested her head on my shoulder.

"Maybe," she said softly. She nuzzled her nose against my neck and I lifted my hand up to her chin and tilted it up to kiss her. She smiled against me and wrapped her arms around my back. I tilted my head a little and we playfully exchanged several small kisses until I ran my tongue along her lower lip. She moved to press her tongue against mine, but then recoiled from the contact.

"Ow," Santana winced, sticking her tongue out at me and trying to look down at it.

"Ouch, yeah," I said softly, raising my hand to hold her chin to keep her mouth open so I could get a better look. It had stopped bleeding, but the puncture in her tongue was visible enough for me to see it. I wondered how she managed to eat dinner without complaining about the pain.

"I' i' ba'?" she said while trying to keep her tongue out. I let go of her jaw.

"What?"

"Is it bad?" she repeated.

"I think you'll live," I said. "But I don't think we're going to watch a movie tonight." I winked.

"But Britt-Britt," Santana whined. She dragged her fingers across my back and to my sides as she sat back a little. "Can't you just kiss it better?"

"I would if I thought it would help," I said, laying back into my bed and pulling her gently to rest on top of me. She sighed and snuggled her forehead against my neck. She started to trace my collar bone with her finger tips and I lifted my hand to play with her hair. It was the only thing I could think of doing that wasn't going to lead to something else.

"Are you disappointed?" I whispered.

"No. I mean, I'm mad that it hurts to kiss you," she said and I felt her jaw move against my chest. It made her sound a little muffled and cute. "And I mean, yeah, I had played out tonight a lot differently when you were texting me at work...but I'm content just cuddling."

She twisted her head and rested her chin on my chest to look up at me. I strained to look down at her and had to lift my hand up behind my head to hold it up.

"Are you disappointed?" Santana asked.

"Of course not," I smiled. I let my hand slide from behind her head and down to her lower back. She exhaled and I felt her relax against me. I liked having her lay on top of me. I knew this way I wouldn't accidentally bump her, and she wasn't too heavy either. I kind of liked the feeling of the weight on top of me though. Plus, she was warm - I didn't feel the need to wrestle my blanket out from underneath us. Hugged her close and closed my eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**There's no song for this chapter. :( I'm sorry. I hadn't intended to have the two chapters be separate. I'll suggest the song I'm listening to right now if that helps, because it could vaguely relate. Not really. Part of Me by Katy Perry. I've not got a link. I'll try to write chapter 21 as soon as I finish my homework tonight so we can keep up frequent updates, but no promises. I kind of messed up my outline with this chapter, so I have to figure out how to fit in Brittany's exams before Spring Break. Maybe I'll post more drawings for you guys in the future. I thought about making chapter headers, but that sounds like a lot of work. - Heebee **

**Spanish: **

**"Say that again! I dare you!"**

**"I will fuck you up! Do I have to say it in English? _I will _end_ you._ Nobody messes with _Brittany_!"**

**"Yeah, you better run! This is how we do it in _Lima Heights Adjacent__."_**

**(I should really have someone go over my Spanish for inaccuracies. I just use google translate. :S )**


	21. Kinesiology

A knock at the door made me stiffen. I opened my eyes and saw that Santana had rolled off of me in her sleep and was tucked tightly into my side, her arm draped over my stomach and her head resting on my chest. When the door handle jiggled, my eyes widened, but I remembered I had locked it the night before. I nudged Santana, but she was fast asleep. I pressed my lips to her forehead and carefully removed her arm from around me. She sighed in her sleep as I squeezed my shoulder out from beneath her.

"Brittany?" Rachel knocked on the door louder. I flipped the comforter from one side of the bed over Santana and then scrambled towards the door.

"Hey," I said quietly as I cracked the door open a little. Rachel was wearing a bathrobe and her hair was damp. She was holding like, a million hangers. I rose my brow.

"Did I wake you?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, but it's okay," I said. "I have to start getting ready for class, anyway."

"Yeah, I wanted to catch you before you left," Rachel said, gesturing to the hangers she was holding. "Can you help me?"

"Are you doing laundry or something?" I muttered sleepily. I still wasn't sure why she had so many clothes.

"I have to do a solo for my midterm today. My professor said it's just as much about presentation as singing, and well, I could use some advice. Can I come in?"

She pressed her hand against the door, but my foot stopped it. I blinked, suddenly more awake now that she was trying to get in the room. She looked up at me, tilting her head to the side and her brow furrowed.

"How about we go to your room? Let me get changed and I'll be over, okay?" I said quickly. I couldn't think of a better excuse on the spot. She looked over my shoulder and I straightened a little bit until she gave me a nod and turned away. I gave a silent sigh of relief and turned back to look at my bed. Santana had shifted from under the covers and was sprawled over the spot I had been sleeping in.

"Santana..." I pressed my hand against my forehead as I crossed my room and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Where'd you go...?" she mumbled. I ran my fingers through her hair.

"Rachel needs help with an outfit decision," I said.

"God, yes, please give that girl a makeover," Santana grumbled sleepily. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. I drew back a little, paused, and then placed a gentle kiss on the bandage on her eyebrow.

"How are you feeling?" I hovered over her and she shifted to look up at me.

"My face hurts," she shrugged. She winced when she did, and brought her hand to her side. "Side kinda hurts too."

"Lemme see," I said. She moved her hands up to rest on either side of her head and let me lift up her shirt. Her side from her lower rib down to her hip bone was a sick sort of green color.

"Ow," I said sympathetically. I looked back up at her face and saw her cheek was a little swollen and had similar coloring.

"What's the diagnosis? Be honest, how much time do I have left, doc?" Santana said, widening her eyes and puffing out her lower lip. She batted her eyes at me and I laughed. I leaned down and kissed the bruise on her side right in the middle of it as gently as I could. Her stomach shrunk in and she giggled. I kissed over it a few times before lifting my head and moving up to her face. I kissed her cheek and drew back an inch.

"Not much time at all," I whispered. "Let me see your tongue, I might still be able to save you."

She let her tongue wiggle out from between her lips. I placed my thumb on her chin and forced her mouth open, kissing as lightly as I could on her tongue. She inhaled sharply and drew her tongue back to press her lips against mine. She lifted her hands up from the pillow and grasped the sides of my face to pull me closer. I almost let her, but I pulled back at the last second.

"Santana..." I exhaled. I felt lightheaded, and I knew I couldn't keep kissing her, or Rachel would be suspicious about how long it was taking me to change. I sat back and ran my hand through my hair. She looked up at me from the pillow and smiled.

"It's a mother _fucking_ miracle," she grinned. "I feel so much better." She sat up and let her fingers tickle over my stomach. I recoiled from her tickling me, but I let my hands wrap around her back as she leaned into me.

"I think we might have found a cure, Dr. Pierce," she mumbled, pressing her lips to my neck.

"S-Santana, I have c-class-" I gasped as she ran the tip of her tongue up the side of my throat.

"Mm, can't you just skip?" she mumbled as she started to kiss below my ear. God, it made my heart race. I felt myself flush, and I had to do everything I could not to snatch her up and push her back into the bed.

"I have midterms," I mumbled, twisting my head and pulling away slightly. She dropped her hands in her lap and pouted.

"Stop it," I rolled my eyes and smacked her hand playfully. "You have class too - and midterms! And Rachel's waiting for me. Get up, get out, get dressed."

"But I need help..." she mumbled, falling back into the bed and wavering her arm weakly in the air.

"I'm not falling for that," I said, arching my brow. "Not after you tried to give me sweet lady kisses."

"Heh," she cracked a smile. "I like that."

* * *

><p>"It wouldn't look so bad, but Rachel, you're mixing colors that don't look right," I shook my head.<p>

"Green and pink are good together," Rachel said, holding the tips of her skirt splayed out to her sides. I shook my head. She looked like a watermelon.

"You said it's a solo performance, right? You're already going to have your professor's attention. You don't have to stand out anymore than that," I shook my head. "It should be simple, elegant, and not distract from your talent."

"Huh," Rachel nodded and sat down on her bed. "That's really smart, Brittany."

It was the first time I'd really been in Rachel's room, and I was surprised at how much different it was to Santana's room. Santana had pictures everywhere and posters of celebrities. Rachel had a pin board full of notes and a calendar on the wall, and then a decorative poster that had a photograph of a beach on it. She had a few well-placed picture frames on her desk. I think the major contrast was that everything in Rachel's room was neat and organized. Santana wasn't a messy person, but she didn't mind a little chaos.

"Did you pick that up at Juilliard?" Rachel asked, picking up another dress from her bed. I was sitting in her rolling computer chair with Lord Tubbington in my lap. I'd found him hiding under her bed when I came in.

"Kind of," I shrugged. "You see a lot of dancers try to make themselves look better than they are by wearing really stylish clothes or whipping their hair around."

"Oh, like hairography?" Rachel said, smiling brightly.

"Is that like pornography?" I said, wrinkling my nose. She laughed, and I laughed too. I had a feeling if I had said that to Quinn, she wouldn't have found it as funny. "Yes, exactly. But I didn't really pick that up at Juilliard - sometimes I'll see one or two of the dancers in my classes try it, so it still happens. I had a high school teacher that helped me with my application for my scholarship. It was her advice, actually."

"Oh? Well, that's still really smart," Rachel nodded. "It's good advice."

"She gave lots of good advice," I said and shrugged. "So, why not just wear something simple? Solid colors. Pick something dark, I think. That always seems more professional."

"Okay," Rachel said, sifting back through her clothes. I scooted closer in her chair to her bed and started to pick through her clothes. She had nice things, she just mismatched them.

"You should wear your hair back," I said. "And don't wear a headband."

"Why not?" Rachel asked, raising her hand up to her head.

"It makes you look like you're in grade school," I shook my head. "You want all the attention drawn to your eyes or your mouth when you're singing. Not your headband."

"Alright," Rachel nodded. She pulled her headband off and set it amongst her clothes. I leaned forward and rustled her bangs.

"Much better," I smiled. "I think you should wear this." I picked up a black shirt from her pile of clothes and held it up over her watermelon colored attire. It draped over one shoulder more than the other, and the asymmetry was nice. "If you can go more casual, wear dark wash skinny jeans with it."

"Yeah, I can," Rachel said. "Are you sure?"

"Mm, yeah," I smiled. "Don't wear any long earrings either, just a simple necklace if you want it."

"That's so basic," Rachel said, looking the outfit choice over.

"Sometimes the best things in life are the ones that are basic and easy," I said, patting her knee and standing to get up. "I have to finish getting ready for class."

"Okay!" Rachel chirped and stood up. She didn't have class until much later, but she promised to make me waffles for breakfast if I helped her. I didn't like waffles as much as I liked pancakes, because you could put things in pancakes, but I wasn't going to complain. She even assured me they would be normal waffles, because I told her I didn't know if I could handle vegan waffles.

* * *

><p>I was just finishing bubbling in the answers for my Acting for Dancers exam when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I wasn't sure why we had a paper exam for an acting class, but it had been really easy. I slipped out of my chair, grabbing my bag and slung it over my shoulder before approaching the front of the room and placing it on my professor's desk. She gave me a light smile and went back to marking other exams that had already been turned in. I quietly exited and flipped my phone open.<p>

_ Hey sexy lady. My midterm only took like 20 min. I'm going to be there in a few minutes. Parking is a bitch. Wait outside for me? - xo - Santana_

I smiled happily and sent her a text back.

_ Don't think you can get past the guard? ;) I thought you said you had your ways._

I walked towards the elevator, waiting patiently for it and for Santana's reply. My phone buzzed a few seconds after I hit the down button.

_ I told you already, I'm not flashing my boobs around! - Santana_

I smiled and stepped into the elevator.

_ That's a shame._

I looked down at my phone while I waited for her reply. I had saved the picture Quinn sent me as the wallpaper. It was the only photo I had of Santana. I managed to get all the way down to the first floor and was almost at the front doors when a new message popped up on the screen.

_ Don't sound so disappointed. ;) - Santana_

My lips spread into a wide grin, and I started typing back as I wandered towards one of the benches just outside the Juilliard building.

_ Is that what I think it means?_

I sat down and looked around. I felt like I had a silly grin on my face, and I didn't want anyone to think I was crazy. There were a few students scattered about, mostly chatting to one another quietly. There was another person across from me on the other bench eating lunch. I really hoped that Santana would offer to get food, because I was really hungry. My phone buzzed.

_ If you're thinking 'Am I finally going to get a look at those rambunctious set of twins?' then I think you might be onto something, bb. - xo - Santana_

I couldn't help it. I giggled. I knew I must have looked silly, but Santana said really funny things. Not just that, but I did really want to see her with all her clothes off. Not just see her, either.

"Pierce." The voice boomed from above me, and I snapped my phone shut as I jumped. I looked up and saw Avery and Tara standing over me. They looked terrible. Avery was definitely the worse of the two. She had swollen lip that looked like it had been busted open and her one eye was dark and swollen. That whole side of her face was a little blue and she had a bandage on her nose. It looked broken. She had two of her fingers in brace and several scuffs and scratches all over her arms. Tara had similar cuts and scratches and a large welt on her forehead. That answered the question of two of the three girls that Santana fought with yesterday.

I looked up at them, too terrified to say anything. Their appearance alone was shocking, and I was afraid of what they wanted. Obviously it had to do with yesterday, but I wasn't sure I wanted to know what they were about to say.

"Looks like you're Hispanic bodyguard isn't around," Avery sneered. "Just thought we should tell you that we're pressing charges."

"Yeah, we came in to get excused from our exams today, but we're on our way to the police station next." Tara said. "You'll be lucky if she doesn't get deported."

Avery grinned and nudged Tara with her elbow.

"Santana isn't an immigrant," I said, furrowing my brow.

"Then they'll probably just arrest her for assault," Avery shrugged. "Either way, you can say goodbye to your friend."

"Who's saying goodbye to whom now?"

All three of us looked up and saw Santana standing about two yards away, her arms crossed over her chest. Somehow, the way the sleeves of her NYU hoodie were rolled up and how her brow arched like she was showing off the bandages on her arm and face made her look really cool. She waited for a second before advancing several steps towards us, and Avery and Tara instantly backed up.

"C'mon, Britt," Santana said, reaching down and grabbing my arm. She forced me up, but I fidgeted.

"Santana, they said they're going to press charges," I whispered. I felt like I was going to cry. There had to be something we could say or do so they wouldn't.

"Oh, really?" Santana said, turning to them. "Where's the third one? She pressing charges too?"

"No, she isn't. But the both of us are enough," Avery said.

"Don't you feel a little pathetic admitting to anyone that you lost three to one to a someone you cornered?" Santana said, letting go of my arm and taking another step towards them. I was actually a little impressed Avery stood her ground, because Tara wasn't that brave.

"Your word against ours," Avery said with a shrug. "And who's going to believe you?"

Santana smiled and crossed her arms over her chest.

"You just can't let this go, can you?" Santana said, flicking her head to the side. "Alright, richy bitch, lemme explain something to you."

She took another step forward, and Avery finally backed up.

"Did you know a lot of stores and restaurants have cameras at their entryways? Yeah, they do. Mm," Santana nodded and rose her hand as if she hadn't gotten to the best part yet. "And the thing is, I got a call from my boss this morning."

My eyes widened. I didn't know that. Why hadn't she text me immediately?

"See, he saw the tapes, and it's pretty damn clear that three girls were waiting outside of the bar looking pretty damn suspicious. Looked to him like they _jumped _one of his employees. Cornered her and pushed her back into the wall. No idea why they'd do that, but the employee reacted in _self defense_."

Avery had turned a ghostly pale, and both of them were frozen in place.

"I'll tell you two what," Santana smirked, twisting to look back at me. "You back off my girl Brittany, and Auntie Snix here won't press charges. But I so much as hear word that Brittany even frowns at the thought of you two bothering her again? I'll be on the bitch town express faster than you can say _hip hop_, laying a legal smack down on your asses."

Santana looked utterly triumphant by the defeated looks on Avery and Tara's faces.

"Yous can go now," Santana said, waving her fingers lightly at them. Avery looked back at Tara, but Tara quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her away. Santana started laughing as they shuffled away.

"Shit, that was _so_ perfect," Santana grinned, twisting to put her hand on my shoulder. "Did you see their faces? Holy shit, fuck yes."

I felt myself crack a grin. I was so relieved, and Santana's reaction was surprising. I hadn't ever seen her be so downright intimidating, and I had to admit the way she was laughing seemed like she enjoyed it too much. But I was so glad they backed off.

"Santana, why didn't you tell me your boss called? I was so worried," I said, lifting my hands to help her stand. She was still shaking with laughter. She shook her head, and it took her several attempts to speak.

"He _didn't_," she giggled.

"Santana!" I hissed. She pulled me around and wrapped her arm over my shoulder.

"Look, yeah, I _bluffed_, but we _do_ have security cameras," Santana grinned. "Rory pulled the tapes last night. He texted me this morning. If shit goes down, I'm still in the clear. He looked it up; said he's pretty sure I could easily pull off a self defense claim if I wanted to."

"Tina said you started it," I said quietly.

"Maybe," Santana shrugged. "Whatever the case, it looks like self defense."

"It was, they had you cornered three to one," I said as she steered me down the sidewalk towards the parking garage.

"It was defense," Santana said. She glanced around before leaning in and pressing her lips to my cheek quickly. "Just not really for me."

* * *

><p>"Santana, stop it," I mumbled. Santana was sitting behind me on my bed. She'd offered to braid my hair while I studied, but almost immediately after she started to brush her fingers through my hair, she'd bent down and started kissing my neck. I giggled the first time, but this was the third time I was warning her, and each time she started, it took longer to get her to stop.<p>

"Brittany, let's just take a break, okay?" Santana said, lowering her lips again to my neck and sucking softly against my skin. I felt my shoulders sink as she ran her hands down my back. When I heard myself sigh, I snapped back up and rose my hand to bat her away.

"You've been taking a break for the past twenty minutes," I said. "I know what you want. And that's not going to help either of us. I'm seriously going to fail my exam tomorrow if I don't get this down."

"Britt-Britt," she whined, swooping her hands over my stomach and nuzzling her nose against the spot she'd just been kissing. "Please? I promise we'll get back to work after."

"You said that _forty_ minutes ago," I said, twisting in her arms to let her see the disapproving look I was giving her.

"It felt like longer," Santana murmured, lowering her mouth to neck again. Forty minutes ago, she had managed to get me pinned to the bed. I would have seriously considered letting her tear my clothes off like she had eagerly attempted to, but I knew that once the clothes were gone, neither of us were going to care about school for the night.

"Santana," I said, raising my shoulder and shoving her off. She grunted disapprovingly. I shot my hand to the other end of the bed. "Finish your project."

She nipped at my hand as she crawled back to her computer. I swatted her nose and she wrinkled it as she sat back down.

"You're banished to that side of the bed," I growled.

"No..." she whined.

"Yes. No sweet lady kisses for you until your project is finished," I said, sifting through my notecards. I knew if I looked at her, she'd give me that puppy-dog pout, and I wouldn't be able to resist.

"What if I can't finish it tonight?" she grumbled.

"Too bad," I said, continuing to ignore her. I felt her inch towards me and I dropped my hands into my lap and glared at her. "I will get Lord Tubbington."

"No!" she hissed. She slinked back to her spot and nestled her laptop closer to her. I waited until she slapped her headphones over her ears before I went back to my flashcards. As much as I wanted to spend every moment I could with Santana, she was making it really hard for me to memorize the material for my Kinesiology exam.

* * *

><p>I was so glad that Quinn asked us if we were hungry, because Santana finished her project in record time. I think the threat of not kissing her was more motivating than frightening. Quinn brought us a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches, and Santana was nestled in my side as she nibbled on hers quietly.<p>

"What more do you have to study?" Santana said, leaning forward a little to look at my notes.

"I have to memorize the origin and insertion points of these muscles," I said, pointing to a sheet of paper that had a list of words on them. "And I _know_ what they are, I'm just having trouble remembering where those bones are on the body. We went over the skeleton at the beginning of the semester... We have to label them on the exam, so even if I know what they do, I'm screwed if I can't place them."

"What class is this? I thought you were a dance major," Santana scooted forward, looking over the list and then picking up the sheet of paper with the skeleton on it.

"Kinesiology. It's the study of human movement. I need to know it for health and awareness purposes. In case I pull a muscle or injure myself dancing, or overall to make sure I avoid doing so."

"So that's how you know so much first aid," Santana said before stuffing the rest of her sandwich in her mouth.

"Mm, that'll be on the exam too, but I'm fairly certain I'll ace that part,"I said, brushing my hand up through her hair.

"I'll quiz you," Santana said, smiling. She looked eager to help me, and even though I suspected her motivations for it, I was glad she offered.

"Okay," I twisted to face her. She held up one of my notecards and placed the other two sheets of paper in her lap.

"Hmm... The brachialis? Tell me about that," she said.

"It's a muscle," I said.

"Obviously," she nodded.

"Shut up," I giggled. "The origin is... the lower half of the humerus... and it inserts into the um... the coronoid process of the...ulna?"

"Yes," Santana nodded. "Which means? What does that muscle do?"

"...I can't remember," I shook my head. "It...does that have to do with the leg?"

"Cold," she shook her head.

"It's not a back muscle, is it?"

"How on earth did you memorize all of that and not remember where it is on the body?" Santana frowned.

"Because I forgot," I pouted. "I don't know. Just tell me."

"That's not how me quizzing you works," Santana shook her head. "Guess again."

"I don't know Santana...!" I whined. "Is it a face muscle?"

"Completely off," Santana shook her head. She extended her arm. "This is the humerus," she pointed to her upper arm and then dragged her finger down to her elbow. "It connects to the ulna, right? And it's responsible for.." She paused and picked up the note card. "'The fle-"

"Flexion of the elbow joint," I nodded. It was easy to remember when I could visualize _where_ on the body it was located.

"Jesus, this is a lot of information," Santana said, sifting through my notecards. She looked at the clock on my headboard and sighed. "Alright, let's get through this."

We ran through all the note cards three times, and I still couldn't remember where the mandible was. I kept mistaking it for the femur, which I know, doesn't make any sense.

"I'm not going to get any of this right," I groaned, resting my forehead against my bent knees. Santana wiggled closer to me and wrapped her arm over my shoulder.

"You'll be okay," she cooed. "You remembered where the clavicle was this time." She wrapped her other hand around my stomach, pulling me back a little so she could nuzzle my neck. I sighed and tilted my head against hers as she bent lower and pressed her lips against my collarbone.

"That's because you keep kissing it," I mumbled.

"Then maybe I should kiss your mandible," she whispered as she lifted her head.

"That's weird, don't kiss my leg," I said, tucking my foot underneath me. She laughed and moved to press her lips against my jaw.

"This is your mandible, babe," she said quietly. I flushed. So far, the only nickname she had given me was 'Britt' or 'Britt-Britt.' I liked them both a lot, but her calling me 'babe' felt more like something she would only call me when we were alone. Her tongue brushed out and she moved towards my earlobe.

"Santana," I said. "C'mon, we need to concentrate."

"Brittany, we've been over this stuff a bunch of times," she said, pulling away and looking up at me. I twisted to face her better and she brushed my bangs out of my face. "You've been studying for hours. Your midterm is tomorrow. If you don't know it by now, forcing yourself to keep studying is only going to make you more stressed out."

"I know, I just... Santana, I'm going to fail this," I frowned, leaning forward and resting my forehead against hers. She let me rest there for a while, running her fingers up and down my back and the arm closest to her until she pulled away.

"Okay, you said you just have a different learning process than everyone, right? That you're more visual? Well, let's try a different technique. Just focusing on the skeleton." Santana started to pick up my books and my note cards and shuffle it all into one pile. I tilted my head as she cleared everything from the bed, including her laptop. It took me a minute to figure out what she was doing, and by the time I did, she was already crawling back towards me with a mischievous grin on her face.

"You just want to get your hands down my pants," I managed to accuse before she snatched my lips in hers and lifted her leg up over mine to sit in my lap.

"More like up your shirt," she whispered as her fingers scratched over my stomach, forcing my shirt up a little. She found the bottom of it and then tugged it up and over my shoulders. She tossed it over the edge of the bed and moved into me again, forcing me to lay back. "And your pants, but you know."

"This isn't studying," I said weakly.

"Sure it is," she said, lowering to the base of my neck and dragging across my collarbone to the tip of my shoulder. She paused there, running her tongue over that area until she found a little bump. She smiled and placed a gentle kiss on it.

"What bone is that?" she asked.

"Hmm?" I furrowed my brow. She ran her hand up my side and placed a finger on the bump again, pressing harder.

"That notch there, what is it?"

"Uh," I closed my eyes and tried to envision the skeleton in my head. It was part of the shoulder blade, wasn't it? It wrapped around from the back and connected to the collarbone - or the clavicle. The notch she was poking at had a specific name. It rested just under the clavicle.

"The um... acromion of the scapula?"

"Good," she said, kissing it again before moving down to my arm. "And this one?" She placed a kiss to my upper arm.

"The humerus," I smiled.

"Mm. And here?" She twisted my hand so that its palm was facing up and kissed the outside of my forearm.

"The ulna?"

She nipped the skin over my wrist with her teeth, causing me to cry out a little.

"Ow!" I tried to snap my arm away, but she held my hand firmly in hers, pinning it down to the bed.

"Wrong," she said, lowering to kiss it again.

"The radius, then," I said hastily. She licked the spot she bit and nodded. She moved to the inner part of my arm and kissed the other side.

"That's the ulna," I said, shuddering as she let her tongue run up the side of the bone all the way up to my elbow.

"Good girl," she smiled and moved up to kiss my lips.

"This isn't a bone," I mumbled against her.

"Mm, I know," she said. Her hands slid down over my stomach until they reached the top of my jeans. She smiled and pressed her lips harder against my mouth as she wiggled her fingers to unbutton them and then wiggled me out of of my pants. She lowered her kisses down to my jaw as her hands slide back up my sides and wrapped underneath my back.

"Here?" she said. I was distracted by her hands, because she lifted me just enough to undo the clasp of my bra.

"Hm?" I asked. She nipped at me again with her teeth.

"Th-the mandible," I stammered.

"Pay attention," she whispered before placing a gentle kiss back on my jaw. I nodded and gulped as she lowered down to the base of my neck. She kissed my collarbone again as she removed my bra completely. I felt cool air rush over my chest, but also heat rise in my face. I strained to look at her and she smirked. Her eyes were dark and devious.

"Clavicle," I answered before she bit me again. She hummed in response and lowered further, moving to the center of my body to press her lips against bony surface in the center of my chest.

"Manubrium," I uttered. I barely had a chance to finish saying it before she slid down and ran her tongue down between my breasts.

"S-scapula," I gasped. She sucked on the skin there for a moment as her hands lifted up to cup one of my boobs. She moved to the other with her lips, placing gentle kisses over it until she found her way to the nipple.

"Santana," I hissed as she lowered, dragging her tongue around in a circular motion around it. She was teasing me, and it was infuriating, because it didn't have anything to do with the bones in my body. She tightened her fingers against my other breast, eliciting a moan from my throat. It was frustrating! I wanted her to keep going, but I knew I should be scolding her for getting off track. She lowered her lips and sucked on the nipple, and I had to bite my lip to keep from making another noise.

"That's... that's n-not a bone, Santana," I grunted. She paused against me before slowly lifting her head with a cheeky grin on her face.

"I was wondering when you were going to say something," she said, raising her eyebrow. I exhaled sharply through my nose and frowned, avoiding eye contact with her. She laughed and lowered again to place a kiss on the bottom of my ribcage.

"The ribcage," I mumbled.

"What's this called?" she said, dragging her fingers down my breast and to the groove that ran from the bottom of the sternum to the bottom of my ribcage.

"Thoracic arch?"

"Mm," she nodded, dragging her tongue along the arch and kissing my side. "How many ribs are there?

"T-twelve."

"And how many are connected to the sternum?" She made her way back to the center of my stomach, sucking and licking just over my belly button. It was distracting. When I didn't answer, she bit me again.

"Ow, stop that," I hissed. "Ten, ten are. There are two floating ribs."

"Uh-huh," she said, dipping her tongue over my belly button and dragging down over my lower abdomen. She paused at each of the noticeable bumps that formed my abs, kissing and sucking at them. She had even dragged her fingers down to hold my waist so she could give them her full attention.

"Not a bone," I grunted again, wiggling my hips beneath her. She sat up, slurping her tongue back into her mouth and grinning at me. She moved even lower, and my eyes widened when I thought she was going to pause over my underwear, but she kept moving lower. She kissed my ankle on the interior of my leg, forcing the medial malleolus from my lips. She moved up, and kept kissing, only biting me when I mixed up the fibula and the tibia.

"Here?" she asked, kissing my thigh. I started to fidget again, mostly because of the direction she was moving. I sat up a little to look down at her.

"The mandible," I grinned. She sank her teeth into my skin and I cried out. "The femur! I was joking!"

"Mm-hm," she said, running her tongue soothingly over where she had pressed her teeth into me. I sighed and fell back a little. She kissed upwards, slowly and teasingly, and just when I thought she was going to move in to kiss my center, she pressed her lips upwards and moved to my hip. I surprised myself by letting out a grunt of frustration.

"We're studying, Brittany," she scolded playfully.

"You're awful," I groaned. She lowered her lips back to the top of my hip bone.

"Pelvis," I said.

"More specific," she said, threateningly scrapping her teeth over the ridge of my hip.

"...the um... the, wait don't bite me," I said, lifting my hand to her head and stopping her before she sank her teeth in again. She nuzzled my hand and then bit it instead. "Ouch! Stop, it's the iliac crest!"

"Mm," she nodded, lowering down. She stopped at a notch that poked out a little, licking it and kissing it. She wasn't going to let me get away with just knowing that it was the pelvis. That notch had a name, and a few muscles connected to it.

"The a-anterior ...superior..."

"You can abbreviate it," she said, kissing over it again.

"The ASIS," I groaned as she dug her hands beneath me. She moved her lips back to my stomach, just above my underwear, and kissed at my abs again. Her hands were what were distracting though. She ran then up and down over the little divots in the small of my back. I kept thinking she was going to go lower and tighten her fingers around my butt.

"There?"

"What?"

"The bone, here," she said, dragging her fingers a little lower. I flushed.

"The sacrum," I said.

"Yeah," she said, kissing down again once more before sliding up to my face. Her fingers dragged out from beneath me and she pressed her lips against mine. "I don't really remember anything else."

"I think that was more than I remembered," I said, leaning forward. I didn't want her to stop. I lifted my hands and pulled her down into me instead of saying it. She chuckled, but it only enabled me to push my tongue past her lips. She hummed, adjusting her arms so that she wasn't putting all her weight on me. I wouldn't have minded otherwise, but then she started to let her hand slid down my stomach and pause at the top of my underwear.

"Don't stop," I moaned. She grinned again, pulling away from me slightly.

"I thought we needed to concentrate. That's not a bone," she winked.

"Shut up," I said. "We can take a break," I muttered before crashing my lips against hers. I tightened my hold against her neck, and she winced a little. I forgot she was still hurting, but instead of apologizing, I moved my kisses to her cheek. I was gentle and she nuzzled her nose against mine.

"I guess a little break won't hurt," she said softly, lowering to press into me again. Her hand slipped under my underwear and I felt my body tightened in anticipation. She slipped her fingers over the soft mound of skin there and held them and slid them over the center a few times. I shuddered when she came close to the sensitive knot at the top of the slit, but she suddenly stopped moving her fingers completely.

"What?" I asked, breaking from her lips to look at her. I was afraid she'd frozen up again, but she was wearing a devilish grin.

"What are they called again?"

"What?"

She wiggled her fingers against me, making a breath escape my lips.

"These. My fingers," she said, leaning in to peck my lips. I grunted with frustration.

"We're taking a break," I complained.

"Too bad, I guess you don't want it enough," she said, starting to slide her hand back out of my underwear.

"Phalanges," I said, my hands dropping to grip her wrist and hold it still. "Keep going," I whimpered. She laughed and brought her lips to mine again as she dipped her hand down again. She teased her fingers against me in a slow circular motion, and I pulled on her neck again to force my tongue deeper in her mouth. She was being mean. I just wanted her to touch me as much as she could. I bucked my hips against her hand and she drew away from my mouth a bit.

"Can I?" she asked in a breathy gasp. I nodded and brought our lips together again. She let my tongue back in her mouth as she slowly dipped a finger between my folds. I moaned, a little loudly, as she pushed it all the way in. She wiggled it for a second, exploring the new space. I knew she only had the support of her one arm holding her up, and it was her hurt arm at that, but I couldn't help pulling up into her and thrusting my hips in the same movement. Her arm wobbled next to us and she lowered, pressing her clothed chest against my bare one. I grunted and continued to rock my hips against her hand, hoping she would get what I wanted without me having to tell her. Slowly, but surely, she pulled her finger out a little before pressing it back in.

"Santana," I groaned. She pulled away from my mouth and moved to my neck. I started kissing down her jaw as well, lifting my hand to brush her hair away so I could suck on the crook of her neck. She slowly and cautiously let a second finger slid into me, and I moaned contently against her skin.

"You okay?" she whispered, wrapping her arm around my back and lifting me up a little. I nodded and pushed my hips forward again. She held me close and kept moving her fingers, in and out. With all the build up and teasing she had done to me, I knew I wouldn't last much longer. She had me all wound up. I started to move my hips faster against her, and I realized she was rocking with me as she laid me back down on the mattress. It didn't take very long for the pleasure to build up from the friction of her fingers.

"Ah! S-Santana!" I cried out, biting into the crook of her neck. Her chest tightened against mine as I dug my nails down through her shirt into her back and clamped my jaw down. I didn't know if she liked biting or not. She liked biting me, but that had been mostly playful. I think I had bit down too hard, but I didn't care. The rest of my body was writhing with satisfaction at her forcing me to climax. I let my jaw loosen so that I could kiss the spot I bit. She let her weight fall down on me and slipped her hand out of my underwear, cooing my name gently in my ear.

"Did I hurt you?" I asked, kissing over the bite marks I left in her skin. I felt bad. She was already beat up enough as it was, I didn't need to go vice-gripping her with my teeth.

"Of course not," she mumbled, sitting up a little and lifting her hand to push a long strand of hair out of my face. I felt sweaty, but she didn't seem to mind. She leaned down and kissed my forehead and traced down my nose and to my lips. "It was hot."

"You're so good," I mumbled. I knew she'd never done anything like this before, but sex with Santana was the best kind of sex. She was careful and considerate, but I also felt like it wasn't just sex for us. I'd never thought it could be more than that. I think it was so good because I cared so much about her.

"Thanks," she whispered sheepishly.

"I'm serious," I said reassuringly. "I feel so good when I'm with you." I kissed her neck again and started to trail my fingers under her shirt.

"Hey, no, its okay," she muttered. "We should..." She trailed off when I pressed my hands against her chest, over her bra. "Should...get...back to...studying."

"You can't tell me you're not turned on right now," I muttered against her throat. I felt her gulp and I smiled. "Why don't you quiz me?" I wiggled my legs beneath her, wrapping one hand around her back as I lifted the other up under her shirt to her shoulder and easily flipped her onto her back. I started to attack her neck again and she groaned.

"God, Brittany," she muttered. She had lifted her hand to her forehead and her other hand was scratching my bare side soothingly. "I can't even remember anything."

"But it's your turn," I said, nipping at her neck. She tensed and grinned.

"Yeah, yeah, okay," she smiled. I helped her sit up and I lifted her shirt over her head. She looked a little embarrassed when I stared down at her bra immediately. I eagerly wrapped my fingers around her back and unclasped her bra. She let out a short gasp of protest, but the bra fell away to reveal her exposed breasts. They were soft and round looking, and just perfect.

"So these are the twins," I said, lowering to kiss the top of one, and she shuddered.

"Brittany..." she sounded shy and timid again. I giggled and lifted my head to kiss her lips.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," I said reassuringly. "Although yours are _very_ nice."

"Yeah?" she pressed into me.

"Mm," I said, licking her lips. She fell back into the pillow and let me slide my tongue into her mouth. I think we forgot about her needing to quiz me, because I stayed and made out with her for a while. It wasn't until she twisted and let me run my tongue over her neck that she said anything at all.

"Where's the... s-sternum?" she asked. She sounded so quiet and small, I barely heard her. But I moved down to her chest and ran my tongue over the ridge between her breasts.

"And th-the thoracic arch?" she groaned. I lowered, sucking and kissing every inch of skin between her sternum and the arch were her ribs ended. I felt her shudder beneath me as my fingers fumbled with her pants.

"Brittany..." she hissed.

"Not a bone," I mumbled, going lower. My tongue was sliding down her stomach, and I paused to kiss her belly button. She was soft and her skin was really smooth. She didn't have abs like I did, but instead her stomach was pretty flat. I let my tongue glide over her skin as I zigzagged down lower. I managed to unzip her pants and I was tugging them down when I felt her hands on my head. She ran her fingers through my hair and I looked up to see her panting.

"Britt," she huffed. I tugged her pants down further and wiggled them off her feet. She kicked to help me, and then I returned my lips down to her stomach. I started to kiss lower, finding the space where her thigh started and began kissing upward. I ran my fingers back up her sides and started to pick at the elastic of her underwear when she let out a strangled cry.

"_M-mandíbula_," she said. "Britt, the mandible."

I slurped my tongue back in my mouth and looked up at her. Her brow was furrowed, and her chest was heaving up and down erratically. I crawled back up and found her jaw with my lips, pressing my chest into hers. I was careful to be soft and gentle. I even remembered to put my weight on her one side, so I didn't lay on her bruised side.

"I d-don't wanna do that," she said, twisting her head further to the side. I think she was trying to avoid looking at me directly, but that only made me want her to look at me more. I moved closer to her, lifting my hands up to hers and tangling our fingers. I nuzzled my nose lightly against her cheek. It was bruised, but she wasn't give me a lot else to snuggle against. She slowly looked up at me and I smiled.

"Okay," I nodded. "No sweet lady kisses down there," I promised.

"J-just not yet," she shook her head, averting her eyes. "I'm not ready for that."

"Okay. When you're ready," I said. "I'm happy doing whatever you want me to."

"K-kiss me," she mumbled. I complied, and brought our lips together. I had forgotten how scary this could be because she was so confident earlier. Initiating everything and exchanging all those smirks and looks with me. She definitely had confidence in bed. I think she just wasn't used to all the changes with our anatomy. I was excited to explore those differences. I think she was too, just not as eager. And with a lot more trepidation.

"Santana, what are you scared of?" I mumbled.

"_No lo sé_," she muttered back. "W-what if you don't like it?"

"I like everything about you." I kissed her again.

"I just want to wait on that," she sighed.

"I'm not pressuring you," I said, drawing back. "I just want you to feel like you can tell me if something is wrong."

"I know," she said. She let her fingers slip out of mine and she hugged me tightly. "I'm good. Nothing is wrong, I just need things to go slowly."

"Okay," I lowered and kissed her neck.

"But...you can still do what I did to you," she said sheepishly.

"Is that what you want?" I asked, letting my lips dip down into the crook of her neck. I kept going down, placing gentle kisses up and down, waiting for her breathing to calm a little. She moved her head, but I waited, because I wasn't sure if she was a yes or a no.

"Yes, I do," she said.

"Mm," I hummed. I let my fingers wander down and slipped them under her underwear. She gasped, probably because I didn't tease her like she had me. I let my other hand raise to cup her breast. I started massaging it tenderly as I moved my head further to kiss over her collarbone and down to her other breast. My fingers slide up and down her folds, waiting for her reaction before doing anything else. When she bucked her hips forward, I smiled against her skin and pushed a finger inside of her. She moaned. I let my finger slide in and out, slow and steady so that I could read her reaction. I didn't know how fast she wanted me to go or what else she wanted me to do.

"Brittany," she groaned as I let my tongue skate over her nipple. She liked that. Her back arched to press her chest higher up. I let my tongue twirl over it again before snatching it in my mouth and sucking down on it. My other hand played with her other breast, tweaking gently at the nipple until she let out another sound of gratitude. I continued to work my finger in and out of her, drawing on how she had made me feel to try to make her feel just as good. She was wet and my finger kept slipping around. I wasn't sure how she had managed to keep such a steady rhythm with me.

"Is two okay?" I asked, raising from her breast a little. She nodded quickly, burying her face into her arm. I let another finger slip inside of her and I felt her tighten around it. She was panting again, audibly, and I had a hard time keeping my lips pressed to her breast with her chest heaving up and down. I wiggled up and nudged her with my nose. She looked up at me and I smiled. I bent down and kissed her again and she pulled her hand up to grip my neck. I pressed my fingers into her again, and she moaned in my mouth.

"Britt," she gasped, breaking from my lips and holding her forehead against mine. I could see she was fighting clenching her eyes closed. I moved my hand up from her breast and wrapped it around her shoulder. Her hand drew away from my neck and she reached around blindly for it while she kept her eyes locked with mine. When she found my hand, she tangled her fingers around the back of it and pulled them up to her shoulder. She rocked against me, letting out tiny, sharp gasps with every undulation of her body.

"Santana," I said sweetly, just barely above a whisper. Seeing her squirm like this would make me worried if I didn't know she was reacting out of pleasure. She felt hot beneath me, and her breath was moist and warm against my lips. If I hadn't thought she needed all the air she could get, I would have kissed her again.

"God, Brittany," she huffed. She kept rocking her hips against my hand. I could feel she was close, because she kept uttering 'Britt' every other gasp, and her grip on my hand was getting tighter. I kept her foreheads pressed together because I couldn't kiss her, and finally she clenched her eyes closed as she let out a high-pitched cry. I started to pull my fingers back, but her free hand wiggled around and gripped my wrist to hold me still. I froze completely as she shuddered beneath me.

"Britt-Britt," she gasped, her fingers loosening around my wrist and other hand. Her body relaxed and she rose both her hands to cup my cheeks and pull me in for a long kiss.

"Oh, _joder_, Brittany," she mumbled, letting go of my face. Her head rolled back onto the mattress and I sat up a little. I was grinning from ear to ear at her reaction. I let my hand slip out of her underwear and I wiped my hand against my thigh as I laid down next to her. She twisted and cuddled into me, wrapping her legs in mine.

I sighed contently and let my head rest against hers. I think after all that, we were both really tired.

"I swear, are all dancers that good in bed, or are you just a fucking genius?" Santana exhaled into my neck.

"I don't know if I'm a genius," I grinned. I had been just as, if not more, unsure of what I was doing, but Santana liked it. So I guess I did something right.

"No, you are," she murmured. "So fucking good."

"You are too," I said, kissing her forehead.

"Mmm," she hummed sleepily. "Sorry I didn't really quiz you."

"It's okay," I shrugged. "I learned a lot today."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Here's a song for you today! Naked ft. Enrique Iglesias by DEV - watch?v=wFz1F438490**

**And there we have, three for three. This chapter had hardly any plot development. :D ...**

**Also, my bad for all the technical terminology. I'm a 3D modeling animation major, and we focus a lot on human anatomy. :D The more you know...!**


	22. Remember the Name

"Aren't you supposed to be at work, Quinn?" Santana asked, standing at the refrigerator. Quinn was sitting at the dining table, her nose in a book. Santana held the refrigerator open with one hand, her cell phone in the other.

_Did your exam go okay? _

"Called out," she said, without looking up. "Midterms."

"Seems to be everyone's issue these days," Santana shrugged.

"And somehow not yours," Quinn said, arching a brow and glancing up over the book. "You've been standing there for five minutes. Are you getting anything to eat or not?"

"Huh?" Santana looked up, her cell phone in her hands. She looked like she had forgotten she was looking for food. She glanced over the contents of the refrigerator again and then shut the door. Her phone buzzed in her hands.

_No, the midterm was really frustrating...! - Britt-Britt _

Santana smiled and leaned against the counter.

_Aw... I'm sorry, babe. And after all that studying we did. ;) Was it that difficult?_

"Do you not have any exams?" Quinn asked. Santana shook her head.

"No, my history class just has bi-weekly quizzes. We have one big final at the end of the year," Santana said with a shrug. "Just one more critique and I'm done."

"I haven't seen you work on anything," Quinn said, returning her gaze to her book. Santana's phone buzzed again and she looked down.

_No, it was frustrating because of YOU. Ugh, I don't want to go to work-! - Britt-Britt_

Santana's smile widened into a huge grin. She tapped away at her phone.

_Wanky. How many exams do you have left? Maybe we can find other ways to study. _

"Santana?" Quinn said.

"Huh?" Santana looked up from her phone.

"I asked if you were actually going to eat anything. Are you even listening to me?"

"Oh," Santana looked around the kitchen and shrugged. "I don't feel like making anything, but I'm hungry..."

"I'm not making you food. That might work on Rachel, but I'm not supporting you being lazy when I have more work to do than you," Quinn grumbled. Santana sat down at the table and went back to her phone. Quinn set her book down on the table to give her a strange look. Usually Santana would have retaliated by now with a remark that didn't make any sense, but the Latina didn't even seem fazed.

"How much work do you have to do on your project? What is it, just another instrumental piece?"

"Independent ...study," Santana said, still looking at her phone.

_Ugh! Santana! ...no, I just have my dance performance on Friday left. Can we 'watch a movie' tonight'? Please? - Britt-Britt_

Santana let out a laugh before clasping her hand over her mouth. She glanced up at Quinn before texting Brittany back.

_I'm sorry, I have work tonight, bb. Are you using the routine you were working on on Sunday? xoxo, I really am sorry. _

"Ah, you're texting with Brittany," Quinn nodded.

"Yeah? How'd you guess?" Santana said, looking up from her phone.

"Cause you look completely stupid," Quinn said, gesturing to her lips and forcing a smile.

"Hey," Santana said, her brow furrowing as she set her phone down. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that."

"About what?" Quinn frowned.

"Can we stop using the word 'stupid'? And 'idiot'?" Santana said, finally giving Quinn her full attention. Quinn sat back a little.

"Uh, sure...? Sorry," Quinn said, a little stunned. "Can I ask why?"

"Britt's really sensitive about that," Santana said quietly. "She was picked on at her old schools - I don't want her to deal with that bullshit here."

"I never said she was dumb," Quinn said, her voice rising a little, defensively.

"You don't need to say it," Santana said quietly. "No one does. She assumes it."

"That's ridiculous," Quinn said. "S, we haven't done anything to make her feel unwelcome."

"That's not the point, Quinn," Santana sighed. "You try going through your whole life with everyone telling you you're something you're not, and then not even have the support system of people that love and care about you. You start to believe it." Santana sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "I just don't want anything to make her feel bad in her own home."

Quinn shifted in her seat and opened her mouth to reply. Santana's phone buzzed again, and she reached for it as Quinn shut her mouth and shook her head.

_No. Yes. Maybe? I don't know, I don't really like the song I chose. Will you help me find a better one? I procrastinated so bad. I'm normally way more prepared. AHH! I have to go, my class is starting. _

_PS. - Don't be sorry, I'll just dance it off. :) - Britt-Britt_

Santana smiled and brushed her hair back behind her ear. She tapped back at her phone while Quinn slowly rose her book to her nose.

_I'll help you find a song, bb. Muah~ xoxo Have fun in class. _

While Santana was tapping on the screen of her phone, Rachel bustled in with an armful of groceries. Santana looked up and pushed away from the table, swiftly crossing the living room to grab one of the bags out of Rachel's arms.

"Oh," Rachel said, surprised. "Thank you, Santana."

"Mm, yeah," Santana shrugged and followed the brunette to the kitchen.

"Quinn, you're home too?" Rachel said as she set a paper bag on the counter.

"Yep," Quinn nodded, keeping her nose in her book. "Midterms."

"Still? I'm finished already," Rachel smiled. "I had my last one this morning. What about you, Santana?" She started pulling things out of the bag and putting them away.

"Just a critique for my independent study," Santana shrugged.

"So did you already put a file together or are you still working on it?" Rachel asked, opening the pantry.

"It's mostly done," Santana shrugged.

"What _are_ you doing for your independent study, anyway?" Quinn said from behind her book.

"Nothing special," Santana said. "Composition, mostly."

"That's really vague," Rachel said.

"I'm surprised you bought yourself your own food," Santana said, changing the subject and lifting a carton of soy milk out from the bag she was holding. She wrinkled her nose. "Seriously, how can you bear this stuff?"

"I'm surprised you didn't comment sooner," Rachel said, taking the carton out of Santana's hand.

"She's been weird today," Quinn waved her hand from her book.

"She's been weird for a while," Rachel said, swatting at Santana's forehead playfully. The Latina ducked.

"What? No, I haven't!" Santana said, smacking at Rachel's hand and scampering around the kitchen island to avoid further retaliation.

"Yes, you have," Rachel said. "You've been nicer to me lately."

"It's because of Brittany," Quinn said nonchalantly.

"Yeah?" Rachel grinned. "That's cute."

"What's cute? It's not," Santana frowned, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You're more considerate, you've been eating more, sleeping normal hours, and even taking off time from work. Did you even go in yesterday?" Quinn said, all the while keeping her eyes trained on her textbook.

"No, Rory said he would cover it because of the fight," Santana frowned.

"Oh, and the fight!" Rachel giggled. "I'm glad you made a new friend, Santana. Quinn and I were worried you were turning into a hermit."

Santana's cheeks were starting to get rosy. She huffed and went to sit back down at the dining table.

"What was that?" Quinn said, glancing up at Santana. "No retaliation?"

"Shut up," Santana grumbled. "Rachel, will you make me food?"

"Of course," Rachel said. "Want macaroni and cheese?"

"I suppose some things never change," Quinn murmured.

"Yes," Santana smiled, twisting around in her chair and resting her chin on the back of it.

Rachel quickly found a pot and started to bustle around the kitchen. Santana turned around and went back to checking her phone. There weren't any new messages from Brittany, so she clicked on the youtube app to start looking for songs. She fished her earbud headphones out from her pocket and put one in her ear while she searched. A while later, Rachel slide into the seat across from Santana after placing a bowl of macaroni and cheese in front of her. She had her own bowl in front of her. Santana had already scooped up a fork full when she paused before the noodles hit her lips.

"Wait, is this vegan?"

"Yeah," Rachel nodded. "Try it, you'll like it."

"Ugh, no," Santana grimaced.

"You made her spend like forty minutes making you food and you're not even going to eat it?" Quinn grumbled from behind her book.

"I-" Santana hesitated. Rachel was frowning, looking a little like a kicked puppy. "I'll try it, but if I don't like it, you can't be upset."

"That's fair," Rachel smiled immediately. Santana hesitated and then took a bite. She tilted her head to the side as she chewed.

"...weird," Santana said. She didn't say anything else and took another bite.

"Yay!" Rachel cheered.

"Don't think I'm going to let you convert me," Santana snapped.

"Do you want some, Quinn?" Rachel asked, ignoring Santana's remark.

"I'm fine," Quinn replied.

"You're so serious," Santana said, waving her hand in front of Quinn's book to see if she would notice. The blonde continued to stare absently at the text.

"Are we bothering you?" Rachel asked.

"No," Quinn replied in a monotone voice.

"How 'bout now?" Santana said, scooting closer and sticking her fork in front of Quinn's face.

"S, stop," Quinn grumbled, waving her hand at Santana and missing by almost a foot.

"C'mon, try it," Santana said.

"I'm reading," Quinn said, gently shoving Santana's hand out of her face after finally catching it, careful not to knock noodles off of it onto the table.

"Oh, hey," Rachel interjected. Santana barely noticed, continuing to try to shove her fork towards Quinn's mouth.

"Since we're all here, I wanted to talk to you guys about something," Rachel said quietly.

"Is this about Finn again?" Quinn sighed. "We're going home on Saturday, you'll see him soon-"

"-No, no, it's about Brittany," Rachel said, frowning. Santana froze and Quinn finally put her book down.

"What about Brittany?" Santana said, raising her brow.

"I think we should consider amending the roommate agreement," Rachel said, poking her fork into her noodles.

"Which part?" Quinn said, her brow furrowing.

"Well, I think we should appeal the 'no guy' policy," Rachel shrugged.

"What?" Santana said, twisting her head to the side and crossing her arms over her chest tightly. "No. Why?"

"No?" Quinn said, arching her brow. "That's weird, considering we put the policy in place because of _you_."

"There was that time Tina and Mike-!" Santana protested.

"That's forgivable. They're dating," Quinn shook her head. "Although I couldn't sit on the couch for a while after that." Quinn and Rachel both shook their heads solemnly.

"Why do you want to amend the policy?" Quinn asked.

"Well, I just figured, last weekend, she and Sam were hitting it off pretty well," Rachel smiled as she lifted her fork to her mouth. Santana glared at her. "And that would be really cute."

"Hmm," Quinn nodded. She looked at Santana, who sat further back in her seat. Santana slowly started poking at her food again before taking a bite.

"Also, I'm pretty sure she's been sneaking someone into her room," Rachel shrugged. Santana coughed, nearly choking on her mac n' cheese.

"-w-what?" Santana coughed.

"Every time I go to her room, she gets all panicked and won't let me in," Rachel shrugged. "And yesterday, I swear, I saw someone in her bed."

Santana stood up and went to the cabinet to get a glass.

"That's ridiculous, Rachel," Santana shook her head, filling the glass with water. "We would have noticed if she was sneaking someone into her room."

"That's true," Quinn nodded. "Brittany doesn't seem very sneaky."

"Yeah, I thought that too, but then I remembered she has access to the fire escape," Rachel pointed out. Santana froze again, the glass raised to her lips.

"She does, doesn't she...?" Quinn looked up and smiled at Santana. The Latina frowned.

"So?" Santana said, walking back to her seat.

"Anyway, I think we should change the agreement that we can have boys over overnight if we have all been properly introduced," Rachel shrugged.

"Yeah?" Quinn paused. "What do you think, Santana?"

"Why does Brittany get special treatment about overnight guests?" Santana grunted.

"Because she doesn't barge into anyone else's room while doing it," Rachel snapped. "I thought you'd be more supportive of an agreement revision."

"I am," Santana said quietly.

"Good. All in favor of revising the 'no boys' rule, say Aye!"

"Aye," the three said in unison. Santana caught Quinn's eye. She was smirking. Santana would have glared back, but her cell phone buzzed.

_Three...two...one...! - Britt-Britt_

* * *

><p>"-I'm home!" I shouted, waving my arm that wasn't holding the door open up in the air.<p>

"Oh," I froze when I saw Rachel and Quinn sitting with Santana. I smiled and hopped over. I taught a fun class today, but I was really excited to be home. I grabbed the chair at the head of the table, across from Quinn, and pulled it around next to Santana. I wiggled closer.

"Want some?" she asked, holding up a forkful of macaroni and cheese. I snapped my mouth open and clamped down on the fork. Santana giggled.

"Mm," I said while chewing. I really had to resist leaning in and kissing her. She averted her gaze and looked back down at the bowl, so I looked up. "What's up? Why is everyone home?"

"Midterms," Quinn said, raising her hand. The way she said it made me think she had been asked that already.

"I'm usually here at this time," Rachel said with a shrug. "Do you want some, Brittany? There's more on the stove."

"I'll just eat Santana's," I said, stealing her fork.

"Hey!" Santana said, but she didn't stop me from taking another bite. Instead, I felt her hand under the table reach for mine. She wiggled her pinkie around and interlaced it with mine. I smiled as I chewed.

"We were just talking about you," Quinn said. She was looking at Santana and I curiously and then rose her book up to her face. I suddenly felt like we were at a library.

"Abou' wha'?" I said, covering my mouth as I spoke. I looked back at Santana and she avoided my gaze again. I tensed a little, even though I felt her squeeze my pinkie reassuringly.

"About revising the roommate agreement," Rachel said. "And the overnight guest policy."

"I thought I just wasn't allowed to have boys over," I spat, sitting back a little. Santana snapped her head up and furrowed her brow.

"I didn't know slumber parties were prohibited," I explained. Rachel laughed.

"No, you can, you always could have," Rachel nodded.

"Rachel just talks really weird for some reason," Santana said, nudging me with her shoulder.

"We decided to lift the ban on letting boys spend the night," Quinn said, laying her book down flat against the table and staring up at me. "Not all of us should be punished for Santana's actions."

"Like you would bring anyone home," Santana spat.

"-Regardless, you still need to let us know. Introduce us to your boyfriend or whatever before you're allowed to start bringing him up to your room," Quinn continued, ignoring Santana's statement. I smiled. Since they already knew Santana, I technically wasn't breaking any rules, right? Even if she wasn't a boy.

"So it's like meeting the parents?" I said happily, stabbing Santana's fork back into the bowl. "I've never done that before."

"Really?" Santana said, shifting back a little.

"That's right, you said you've never had a boyfriend before," Quinn shook her head.

"Why not?" Santana said.

"I dunno," I shrugged. "I've never had anyone I liked enough for more than a one night stand."

"That's not very safe," Rachel said quietly. I shrugged.

"It's better than leading someone on, isn't it?" I said. Santana smiled and took her fork back.

"You are just the right amount of cute and promiscuous," Santana giggled.

Once Santana and I finished her macaroni and cheese, I insisted she help me figure out a song. I had a back up plan with my routine from Sunday, but I really didn't like it. I was prepared to argue if she scolded me for procrastinating, since so many things happened this week, but she didn't. She just walked with me up to her room, grabbing my hand and shuffling into me once we were out of range of Quinn and Rachel. She pulled me into her room and I closed her door. I was expecting her to pounce on me, or vice versa, but I just stood with my hand pressed to her door.

Santana stepped towards me and wrapped her arms around my stomach, hugging me from behind and kissing me lightly on the neck.

"I missed you," she mumbled. I smiled and leaned back into her.

"Me too," I said, twisting around and hugging her back.

"I'm sorry they put you on the spot," Santana said quietly. "About the boys thing. It kinda came up as a surprise to me too."

"What was with that, anyway?" I asked, nuzzling her cheek with my nose. "It was a little out of nowhere."

"Apparently Rachel saw me in your room yesterday morning," Santana sighed. "She thought you were sneaking in boys through the fire escape."

"I am sneaking someone in through the fire escape," I giggled, taking a step forward and leading her back towards her bed.

"Not a boy," Santana grinned.

"Not a boy," I said, raising my brow and leaning in to kiss her. She sighed into me and brought her hands up around my neck. I felt her press her weight against me, but the action didn't feel sexual at all. It was like she was snuggling into me, full body. I pulled her with me down onto her bed and held her close, pressing a little harder against her lips before pulling back to catch my breath.

"Santana...do you think they know?" I asked quietly. She leaned in and pressed her forehead to the crook of my neck.

"Rachel obviously doesn't," Santana shook her head. "I'm not sure about Quinn."

"Would it be terrible if they knew?" I asked.

"...No, not terrible," Santana sighed. "I just don't want any outside factors affecting this right now."

"Yeah," I whispered, nodding. She pulled her head away from me and looked up.

"How about you?" she asked, picking at my shirt with her fingers. "Are you okay with this? And if they knew?"

"I don't mind, either way," I shrugged. "I suppose it would be a little stressful if they knew."

"Why's that?" Santana tilted her head to the side. I leaned forward and nudged my nose against hers.

"Because I just met you, like, three weeks ago," I muttered. I hesitated, keeping my nose barely an inch from hers. I looked up and met her gaze. "But I like you so much."

"Me too," she smiled.

"I just don't know if they would be supportive," I said quietly.

"If that's your only concern, then you don't have to worry," Santana leaned in, pressing her lips to mine. "They would be, and if they weren't, I'd kick their asses."

"You don't have to do that," I giggled. I laid back into the mattress and Santana wiggled into my side, resting her head on my shoulder.

"I will if I have to," Santana said. I ran my fingers through her hair and sighed.

"We'll stick up for each other, okay?" I strained to kissed her forehead.

"Okay," she murmured sleepily.

"Santana?" I asked. She twisted and rested her chin on my shoulder. I wanted to ask her something, but I didn't know how to say it.

"What?" Santana said, nudging me with her nose.

"I like you...more than a one night stand," I said, looking down at her. I hoped it was enough.

"I know, babe," she smiled. "It's been more than one night."

I laughed. It wasn't really want I wanted to ask, but I wasn't ready to talk to her about it yet. I knew she didn't want to label this, but I was really glad she didn't devalue it either.

"C'mon, let's look for that song, okay?" she said, tapping my nose with her finger. I wrinkled it and smiled.

"Yeah, okay," I nodded. She scrambled up and grabbed her laptop.

* * *

><p>I think I should have been more nervous. Santana had spent all evening on Wednesday with me before work helping me pick out a song. It took forever to find one, because I kept going back to Ke$ha songs. Santana pointed out that it was a little provocative, and I agreed, although she admitted she didn't mind. She just said that I should pick a song that was as awesome as I was, because she really wanted me to show up Avery and Tara.<p>

Madison wasn't sitting next to me. I was a little disappointed, because no one really ever sat next to me in class other than her. I got up after Avery had finished; I was the last to go. She still looked pretty beat up, and her performance just now was a bit shaky. I felt bad that her dancing was affected, but deep down, I think she deserved it. When I was practicing yesterday, Santana was at her computer and pulled up the video Rory emailed her. It was a really bad quality video, but it was clear they really had jumped Santana.

Avery brushed past me, bumping my shoulder as I took a step forward. I paused, closing my eyes and exhaling. I know Santana would have pounced at her for that alone, but I wasn't going to let Avery get in my head. Santana picked out the perfect song. I was so glad I'd asked her to help me.

I moved to the center of the room, staring up at myself in the mirror. My hair was pulled back in a tight pony, and I wore a tank top and leggings. I hadn't even put on make up. Just like I had told Rachel, I didn't want anything to distract from my performance. I let out another breath and ran my tongue over my lower lip. I just hoped I could live up to the expectations I had for myself. The song started up, violins or something, I think. I let my head bob a little to keep track of the beat.

_You ready? Let's go!_

I let my hands raise up to my left side and bent my head down as I moved. The moment the music started, I let it take over. I just focused on the rhythm of the music my performance. I worked really hard to get special permission to be placed in a senior level class, and I wasn't going to let Avery or anyone else get in the way of that.

_Yeah. For those of you that wanna know what we're all about... It's like this, y'all. C'mon!_

I kept my momentum going along with the beat, snapping my hand across my face. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and smirked. I looked pissed, but I was. I was angry that Avery and Tara and anyone else thought that I was going to take lightly to what happened to Santana. I didn't fight back the way Santana did - I didn't support violence. I was going to follow Santana's advice and do the one thing I was best at. I was going to show them up.

_This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill, fifteen percent concentrated power of will. _

I skated my foot across the ground as I swooped down and spun. I was on the ground and did a mock push up before sliding my feet forward and hopping back up. The midterm was to integrate one or more dance techniques in a song. When I explained it to Santana, she said something about a mash-up. I didn't know what that was, but she told me it wasn't important. I was switching between hip-hop, ballet, and some more contemporary movements.

_He feels so unlike everybody else, alone, in spite of the fact that some people still think that they know - But fuck 'em! _

I smirked again when I caught Avery's gaze in the mirror. Her jaw dropped when I thrust a fake punch to the mirror and then let my body fall back in a wave-like motion. I flicked my head up and arched my brow at her.

_Who the hell is he anyway? He never really talks much. Never concerned with status, but still leavin' them star struck. Humbled through opportunities given to him, despite the fact. That many misjudge him because he makes a livin' from writin' raps._

I kicked-stepped back, switching up my feet. After a few more quick movements, I spun around into the ballet portion of my routine.

_Put it together himself, now the picture connects. Never askin' for someone's help, to get some respect. He's only focused on what he wrote, his will is beyond reach. And now when it all unfolds, the skill of an artist._

I spun in the air and landed on one foot. I shifted back into popping my shoulders, lifting my foot, feigning a step a few times. When I finally moved forward, I looked up and saw as Santana leaned against the door jam. Even though she had an exam this morning, she had insisted that she would try to stop by afterwards. I told her not to, because I didn't want her to get in trouble for sneaking past the guard, but it seemed like she got in anyway.

The sight of her made my confident smirk turn into a grin. I continued my routine as planned, with even more reason than before to do well. It was like the only person watching me was Santana. Each spin and turn I made gave me a chance to glance at her. She had her arms crossed over her chest and was nodding her head along with the beat of the song. I snapped to my left, tilting my head down as I snapped my hand out, crossing my feet. I spun on my heels and then stepped out with my feet an equal distance apart and slammed my fist into my palm as the song came to a close.

* * *

><p>"Santana..." I gasped. The moment the elevator doors closed, Santana had pinned me to the wall and started running her hands up my sides. Her lips crashed against mine, and I parted my lips to let her tongue slide in my mouth. She was scratching at the fabric of my tank top when I realized the elevator wasn't moving, because neither one of us had hit the button.<p>

"S-santana-! Stop-! Hold on," I managed to say between breaths as I twisted beneath her and managed to get away from her hands. She fidgeted and looked up at me sheepishly when I hit the button for the third floor to of our apartment building.

"You just were so hot," Santana said, stepping towards me. The elevator jolted and she stumbled into me. I caught her by her shoulders, which I regretted, because she started to slide her hands down my waist. She started kissing my neck and I giggled.

"Santana, wait until we get to your room, at least," I said, letting my hands slide off her shoulders and down her back.

"I don't want to," Santana said.

"We have all b-break, Santana," I said, tilting my head back a little as she licked my throat. I tickled my fingers over her arms and then pushed her back a little when the doors to the elevator opened. She made a weird noise that I think was a whine.

"You can wait two minutes," I laughed, looping my pinkie around hers and dragging her out of the elevator. She playfully stumbled into me.

"Ugh, I just cannot get over at how good you were," she grinned. I was having trouble walking because she was leaning against me. "Did you see the look on their faces? So good."

"This is ten percent luck," I nodded. "Twenty percent skill." I had fished my keys out of my bag and gestured with the same hand to the length of my torso. "Fifteen percent concentrated power of will."

"Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain," Santana said, nipping at my shoulder. I shrugged her off as I unlocked the door, grinning madly.

"And a hundred percent reason to remember the name," I laughed, opening the door and stumbling in. Santana bumbled into me, giggling.

"It's just twenty percent skill, eighty percent fear," she said, stepping back and spreading her arms a little. She jumped forward a bit, playfully pretending to be intimidating. "Be one hundred percent clear cause dis Brit'nay is ill." She gestured her hands up at me.

"Uh, what da hell?"

The both of us snapped up and looked over to the kitchen. Mercedes was leaning against the kitchen island next to Kurt, across from Rachel, Quinn and Tina. I straightened immediately, but Santana threw her hand up in the air.

"Who would've thought that she'd be the one to set them girls up in flames," she said, pointing at me and nodding her head. "And I saw her wreckin' with them crazy dance moves like it wasn't a game."

"Those aren't the words, Santana," I giggled.

"So what?" Santana said, wrapping her arm over my shoulder. "This girl _killed_ it today."

"I guess we don't have to ask about your midterm, then," Rachel grinned. I squirmed out from underneath Santana's arm.

"Yes, but I'm gross. I gotta take a shower," I said, waving my hands up as I stepped backwards.

"How did you're midterm go, Santana?" Quinn asked.

"Good," she smiled, following after me. "Not as good as Britt's though. What are you guys doing here?" She paused at the base of the stairs, so I stopped at the top of them.

"Spring break, duh," Kurt said. "We're going to hang out before these two go home." He pointed at Quinn and Rachel.

"A party?" Santana grinned. "Good, perfect. We're celebrating. Lemme just get changed first."

"There's the Santana we know," I heard Mercedes laugh. Santana scrambled up the stairs at me, giggling.

"-Alright, so I still don't understand what 'Operation Lady Pants' is," Rachel grumbled.

"Shut up, Rachel," Kurt hissed.

I wasn't really listening anymore. I had pulled Santana up towards me now that we were out of sight.

* * *

><p>"That was a long shower," Tina said as I flopped into the recliner.<p>

"Well, yeah, I had to dry my hair and everything," I shrugged and smiled, combing my fingers through my hair. It still felt damp in some places, but it was mostly dry. Santana got up from the couch next to Mercedes and sat on the armrest of the recliner.

"We're talking about going to the liquor store, but Quinn and Rachel said they'd get the drinks if we'd set up the karaoke machine and pick movies," she said and ran her hand over my bangs. She pushed them out of my eyes and I smiled.

"Does that mean you're going to drink, too?" I grinned.

"Sure," Santana nodded.

"Good, because it was scaring me that you weren't drinking," Tina laughed. Santana twisted on the armrest and flipped her off.

"You have a karaoke machine?" I asked, looking up at Santana. Even though she had fixed my bangs, she was still combing her fingers through my hair. It felt good.

"Tsk, yeah," she shook her head. "I can't imagine a situation in which Rachel wouldn't have some means to spontaneous performances."

"Girl needs spotlight like fish need water," Mercedes shook her head. "You two had lunch yet? I know it's late, but you guys might wanna eat something before we start drinking."

"Oh, good call," I said, leaning into Santana's arm and looking up at her. "What do you want to eat?"

"I don't know," she smiled. "I can make something, if you want."

"I didn't know Santana cooked," Kurt said, sitting up in the couch.

"She does," I said happily. "She made some really yummy food a while back. El pandas or something."

"_Empanadas_," Santana corrected. I loved when she spoke Spanish.

"Right, that," I said. "They were so good!"

"What on earth did you do to Santana Lopez, Pierce?" Mercedes rose her brow. "Last I heard, the only cooking she does outside freeloading off Berry was the kind that involves a microwave and take out."

"Shut it, Jones," Santana snapped as she stood up. She turned and patted my shoulder. "Are pancakes okay?"

"That's breakfast again," I frowned.

"I don't think I have anything else in the fridge to make anything else that's decent," Santana shrugged.

"Okay, but only if you make chocolate chip," I grinned.

"C'mon, get off your butt and help," Santana said, slapping my thigh. I giggled and scrambled out of the recliner.

"I want some!" Kurt said, hopping off the couch.

"Yeah, no fair," Tina said. "Make a whole bunch, we'll have a pancake party."

"Quinn and Rachel will be mad if they don't get home in time," Santana let out a maniacal laugh.

"You're not going to steal more fruit from Rachel, are you?" I mumbled as I fished out a giant bowl to make the batter in.

"Of course I am," Santana grinned.

"Rachel _just_ went shopping," Tina rolled her eyes.

"And they're buying the alcohol, don't piss her off," Mercedes said.

We spent the next half hour making pancakes. Santana was at the stove and I mostly just ate raw chocolate chips. I had moved my swivel chair to sit next to her, and she gave me first pick of pancakes when she finished making them. Mercedes complained that Santana was playing favorites, so she started throwing them at them.

"Stop! Santana!" Kurt cried as he ducked to avoid being slapped with a flying pancake. It landed on the kitchen island and made a gross flopping sound.

"You're supposed to _catch_ it, Kurt," Santana frowned.

"And if I missed? I'm not letting you ruin my clothes," Kurt snapped. "This is Armani!"

"At least you've upgraded from your fashion days of high school," Santana shook her head.

"I don't know, I kinda miss the weird sweaters you would wear," Mercedes said, picking at Kurt's shirt. He shrugged her off.

"I think everyone looks back and high school and regrets their fashion choices," Kurt grumbled.

"Oh, hell no," Santana smirked. "I always look hot."

"That's not fair, you always wore your Cheerios uniform," Tina said. "You didn't have to worry about how you dressed."

"And I'm _so_ glad you grew out of your goth phase, Tina," Santana laughed. "And that's not true, what about junior year?"

"For all of like three months, when you and Quinn quit Cheerios," Mercedes said. "That does not compare to the four whole years the rest of us had to deal with the constant pressure of caring about what we wore and how we looked. God, it was tiring."

"Thank God it's over," Kurt said. Santana tossed him a new pancake, and he caught it this time.

"I'm so glad we had uniforms at my school," I said. Santana smiled and tapped my nose.

"I don't think you have to worry about your fashion sense, babe," Santana winked. I froze. She twisted around back to the stove, and I don't think she realized what she said. I glanced back at Mercedes and Kurt. They were silently and cautiously wrestling over the pancake. I caught Tina's gaze and lowered mine to my own pancake, nibbling it nervously. I hoped she didn't say anything.

"You're making pancakes?" Rachel walked in, holding a large bag with both arms tucked beneath it. Quinn shuffled in after her, holding a bag in each hand that clinked with bottles.

"Those better not have any of my blueberries in it," Rachel warned as she set the bag on the dining table.

"Santana, were you throwing the pancakes?" Quinn said as she set her bags down as well. She leaned down and peeled one off the floor.

"It's not my fault no one caught it," Santana shrugged, her back still turned to the rest of them. When Quinn approached the kitchen island to throw the pancake away, I saw Tina lean forward and whisper in Quinn's ear.

"Really?" Quinn said quietly. Tina smiled. I felt my brow furrow.

"Why is it you always make things I can't eat?" Rachel sighed.

* * *

><p>"No, answer the question!" Mercedes laughed. Kurt was blushing furiously.<p>

"This is 'Never Have I Ever', not truth or dare," Kurt replied. "Just because I drank doesn't mean I have to share with you."

"Don't tease him," Quinn said. "I'm more interested to know why _Santana_ of all people didn't drink."

I looked over to Santana, who had a slight flush of red on her cheeks. She leaned back against the bottom of the couch. We had moved the coffee table to the side of the living room, creating a makeshift bar for the drinks. It had been decided that we were having a slumber party because no one wanted to be designated driver, so we were all in our pajamas.

"Look, if I'm going to have sex with someone, it's going to involve pleasing _me _too," Santana grumbled.

"How on earth has _Rachel_ done it and you haven't?" Mercedes laughed. "I mean, not that I want to think of Rachel and Finn- oh god, ew."

"Sh-shut up!" Rachel stammered. She was definitely the most red. "And how is it not gross that Kurt has had...had o-oral sex?"

"A _blow job_, Rachel," Santana groaned. "It's not that hard to say. And it's gross because it's with Finn."

"Be nice," I said softly, leaning in and placing my hand on her knee.

"I'm not being mean, I'm saying it's gross because we know both of them and now have such a pleasant image in our heads," Santana wrinkled her nose. "Well, you don't. Lucky."

"Mm," I smiled.

"Alright, okay, my turn," Kurt said. He grinned. "Never have I ever..." He paused dramatically. "Kissed a girl."

The room fell silent. I was the first one to raise my glass to my lips, and slowly, Quinn, Santana, and Tina rose their glasses to their lips as well.

"What?" Rachel exclaimed. "Okay, explain." Rachel pointed at Quinn first.

"Cheerios, hazing, freshman year," Quinn shrugged.

"Ditto," Santana nodded.

"I went to an all girls school," I smiled deviously.

"Oh dear lord," Mercedes laughed. "Please don't ever tell Puck that."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because Puck doesn't need any validation," Santana rolled her eyes. "Tina, why the fuck did _you_ drink?"

"I don't kiss and tell," Tina said and winked. "Brittany, have you drank to every single question?"

"With the exception of, shoplifting, yes," I smiled. I glanced at Santana. "Still judging you."

"Bite me," Santana stuck out her tongue. I opened my mouth and chomped at the air threateningly.

"I think we should make it a challenge to try to find something Brittany hasn't done," Kurt said.

"Your turn, Santana," Tina said. Santana hummed and leaned back against the couch again.

"Never have I ever..." she hummed to herself as she thought. "...oh, okay, never have I ever had a threesome."

I sat back a little and noticed no one else drank either. They were all looking at me curiously.

"No, never," I shook my head. "I've considered it, but..."

"But...?" Mercedes said, arching a brow.

"I can't multitask," I shrugged. Quinn and Tina burst out laughing, and everyone else started to join in. I cracked a smile and Santana rolled over into my side. I wrapped my arm over her shoulder, grabbing her drink with my other hand so she wouldn't spill it. She was giggling, and it tickled, so I laughed too.

"M'kay, my turn," I said. "Never have I ever...performed in my high school glee club."

"What?" Everyone stopped laughing immediately.

"No fair!" Tina scowled.

"Drink!" I shouted, thrusting my glass in the air. Santana wiggled upright and took my cup.

"You bitch," she grinned, before sipping from it. I smiled as everyone else slowly took a sip from their glasses.

"Okay, alright," Quinn said after she pulled her glass away from her lips. "Something Brittany hasn't done, and not for the sake of an inability to multitask."

"Good luck," I said, twisting a little so that I could lean against Santana. I readied my glass by placing it over my mouth.

"Never have I ever...believed in love at first sight," Quinn said. Kurt, Rachel, and Santana tipped back their glasses. I smiled and took a gulp.

"Shit, really?" Quinn grumbled.

"I didn't expect you to, Santana," Mercedes said. Santana shrugged and rose her hand in the air.

"I'm a secretly a hopeless romantic, sue me," Santana said.

"You guys just don't understand, a glance can say so much," Rachel said.

"Exactly," I said, lowering my glass to the ground. "I mean, I just think eyes are the most beautiful thing about a person. It's like a gateway to someone's soul, right? And how else are you supposed to find your soulmate?"

"Aww..." Kurt said. "I'm gushing. Where did you find her? She's adorable."

"That's like the sweetest damn thing I've ever heard," Mercedes said.

"I want one. Can I adopt you, Brittany?" Kurt said.

"Sure! But I can keep my parents, right?" Everyone laughed when I said that, even Quinn, who usually didn't laugh at my jokes.

"Alright, let's switch games," Tina said, slapping Quinn's knee. "This is getting too deep, and no matter what we do, we can't find anything interesting Brittany hasn't done."

"I vote on Kings," Quinn said, raising her cup.

"Oohh, yes," I grinned.

"Cards are here," Rachel said, twisting to the coffee table and grabbing them off the counter.

"Rules?" Kurt asked. "Just to clarify any discrepancies."

"Aces, waterfall, of course," Quinn said. "Two, you. Three is me. Four is the floor, last person to touch it drinks. Five is, sorry Kurt, guys. Six is chicks. Seven is heaven, last person to raise their hand drinks. Eight is date - drink every time they drink. Nine, bust a rhyme. Ten is categories. Jack is rule. Rules last the whole game. Queen is questions, answer only with questions. King is everyone. Joker is choker - chug the rest of your drink."

"Complicated," I said.

"Have you played it differently?" Tina asked.

"No, I just always forget the rules," I shrugged.

"You're gonna looooose," Santana said, smacking the top of the deck. She flipped the card over. The card displayed the number seven, and everyone shot their hands in the air. Rachel was last.

"Crap!" Rachel spat. She rose her glass to her lips.

"My turn," I smiled, flipping over the card. Nine.

"I really like pancakes," I chirped.

"Better than milkshakes?" Tina asked.

"With fries that taste fake," Quinn grinned.

"Like waffles that don't flake," Rachel said.

"Is that a mistake?" Mercedes tilted her head to the side.

"I think I will forsake," Kurt shrugged.

"Any attempt to partake," Santana laughed.

"Or endeavors to remake," I giggled.

"Something as opaque," Tina nodded.

"As this little keepsake," Quinn said.

"Because this is an earthquake," Rachel laughed.

"Of mad rhymes you need intake," Mercedes said, raising her hand in the air.

"I don't mean to muckrake," Kurt said.

"But this is my namesake," Santana said, pointing her hands at me.

"And I think we need a break," I said, glancing to Tina.

"How about a handshake?" Tina said, offering her hand to Quinn.

"But I can't, I'm a snake," Quinn giggled, hiding her hands behind her back.

"Do those eat cornflakes?" Rachel asked.

"Nah, they eat cheesecake," Mercedes nodded.

"You can't rhyme pancake with cheesecake," Kurt said.

"You broke it!" I exclaimed.

"I couldn't think of anything else," Kurt shrugged and took a sip. "But Mercedes should drink too. That wasn't a good rhyme."

"Fine, but Rachel too," Mercedes said, nudging Rachel.

"Why?"

"Because you said flake earlier and then cornflakes," she said. "If I'm hit by a technicality, then you should too."

"Ugh, okay," Rachel sighed and took a sip. Tina leaned forward and flipped over a card. An ace!

"Waterfall!" She shouted, tilting her cup back. I grimaced, knowing I was going to be hit hard by that. She started drinking, but at least she wasn't cruel. Everyone drank just enough to make the person next to them drink a little bit more than they had, except for Santana. She was being mean. She glanced at me from beneath her cup, gulping back her drink. I glared back at her. I was having trouble breathing through my nose while trying to keep drinking. After what seemed like forever, she finally dropped her cup.

"Damn it, Santana," I groaned as I dropped my near empty glass. She snatched it up and scrambled to the coffee table.

"I don't give a shit," Santana grinned. Quinn pulled a card as Santana refilled my cup with vodka and cranberry juice.

"Ohh," Mercedes said as the card was flipped. I forgot what Jack was.

"I declare a royal decree," Quinn said, raising her cup in the air. "Anyone that swears has to kiss Brittany!"

"What!" Rachel and Kurt said in unison. Santana nearly dropped the bottle she was holding. It clattered against the coffee table loudly, but she managed to keep it from tipping over.

"No complaints," Tina said. "You're in the same boat as the rest of us, Kurt."

"Fine," Kurt shook his head.

"You'll be fine," I said, winking at him. "I don't bite." His eyes widened a little, and Santana coughed. Rachel sighed and leaned forward to grab a card as Santana stepped over the pile to sit back next to me. She handed me my glass and avoided my gaze. I leaned closer to her and ran my hand over her knee.

"Thank you," I said quietly. She nodded and gave me a shrug.

"Ugh, no," Rachel grimaced. She had drawn a three. She tilted her cup back and took a sip.

Mercedes drew a four, and we all clapped our hands to the ground, except for Rachel.

"Shit!" she spat when she realized what the number was for. Then she clasped her hand over her mouth. "No, I mean-"

"Nope, you gotta do it," Quinn said. "Britt-Kiss, come on."

I crawled over the pile of cards and leaned in towards a very reluctant Rachel. She gave Quinn a pleading look, but Quinn shook her head. Rachel sighed and then clenched her eyes closed when she turned to me. I giggled and leaned in to give her a soft peck on the lips.

"That wasn't so bad, huh?" I laughed.

"...no," Rachel said in a really quiet voice. She was pouting. I crawled back to my space, and noticed Santana's lips were pressed tightly together and her arms were crossed over her chest. I felt bad, but there wasn't a lot I could say or do that wouldn't seem suspicious. I think we both knew that. I hadn't even gotten settled in my seat again when Kurt drew his card.

"Damn it," he scowled. "I should totally count as a chick, that's not fair."

"Five is for guys, Kurt," Quinn shook her head. "And you also have to Britt-Kiss now."

"No!" he said, his eyes widening. "I didn't!"

"You did," I said with a nod.

"Okay, I admit, I want a picture of this," Santana laughed. I was glad she did, because I didn't know what she was thinking. She pulled out her cell phone quickly as I made my way over the cards again.

"C'mere," I giggled. Kurt froze, so I scooted closer and planted a kiss on his lips. They were really soft. It surprised me. I licked my lips when I sat back.

"Are you wearing lip gloss?" I asked. He flushed, and Santana let out a roar of laughter.

"Oh, I am posting that on Facebook later," she giggled. "Best five second video ever."

"Don't you dare tag me, Lopez," Kurt growled.

"Yeah, yeah, like I'm _that_ mean. I know how terrified your dad would be to find out you're secretly straight," Santana laughed.

"Santana, it's your turn," Rachel said.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, setting her phone down next to her. She drew an eight.

"Ooh, who are you gonna pick to be your drinking buddy?" I asked.

"You, of course," she winked. I grinned.

"My turn!" I grabbed a card. Four. Everyone slammed their hand to the ground, and this time Tina was last.

"Ugh, no fair," she grumbled. She lifted her cup to her lips at the same time a she grabbed another card. Two. She pointed at Santana. "You."

"Fuck," Santana scowled as she rose her glass to her lips. I rose mine to my lips as well, my eyes widening as I stared at her. She finished drinking from her glass and lowered it a little before she noticed everyone was staring at her.

"Oh, shit," she rolled her eyes.

"That's two, then," Tina grinned.

"What? No! That's not fu- That's not fair!" Santana said, catching herself.

"Rules are rules, Santana," Rachel said, furrowing her brow.

"We had to do it," Kurt said, arching his brow at her.

"It's okay, Santana," I said softly. I took her cup out of her hand and placed it on the ground. She quieted and looked at me nervously. I scrunched my nose and smiled, because I didn't want her to think it wasn't a big deal. I leaned forward, letting my fingers touch her jaw gently and pulled her forward. I heard her take in a breath in anticipation, and then I placed a soft kiss on her lips. She sighed when I pulled back a little. I smiled against her lips when I leaned in again, pressing a little harder this time, causing her to giggle.

"There you go, two Britt-Kisses," I said, tapping her nose with my finger. She blushed.

"Got it," Tina grinned from behind her phone.

"Oh, let me see!" Quinn laughed.

"Give me that!" Santana growled, lunging over me to make a grab at Tina's phone.

"Santana!" I shouted, grabbing our drinks and holding them up as she crashed into my lap when Tina pulled out of her reach.

"Delete it!" Santana yelled, floundering in my lap. I didn't realize I was laughing. Everyone was. Even Santana started giggling when she couldn't get up.

"Too late, I put my password back up," Tina said, tossing her phone down into Santana's outstretched hand. "Unlock it, and you can delete it."

"You made it your lock screen wallpaper?" Santana scowled as I helped her sit up. I leaned into her and looked down at the screen. She was trying to unlock the phone, but even beneath the keypad, I could see the picture of us kissing underneath. Tina caught the snapshot just before Santana giggled and I was smiling against her lips. It was adorable, and I wondered how if I would be able to get a copy of the picture.

"Good luck, bitch," Tina smirked. Santana looked up and pointed.

"HA!" she shouted. "Your turn!"

"Fine," Tina shrugged. Before I even had time to get up, Tina leaned over and grabbed the sides of my face and kissed me. My eyes widened in surprise, and I felt weird because I still had my side pressed up against Santana.

"Let's get back to the game now?" Tina smirked as she sat back down, as if kissing me had been nothing at all. I glanced back at Santana. She looked flabbergasted.

"King," Quinn announced. We looked down and saw she had flipped over her card, so we all rose our glasses to take a sip. The game continued for another round and or so, because we were all getting kind of tipsy.

"Oh, ugh, no, last one," Quinn groaned and shook her head when I drew an ace.

"Fuck me," Santana scowled.

"Britt-Kiss," Mercedes said, pointing at her.

"First, waterfall," I said, raising my cup and winking at Santana. She let out a grunt and rose her cup to her lips.

"Wait, how does this work, Brittany is Santana's date," Kurt said.

"I guess I have to start drinking again after I stop," I shrugged. Santana grinned deviously. I took a small sip, realizing that Santana was going to try to get back at me for drawing the card in the first place. We had to pause when Mercedes ran out of her drink, and we all made sure to refill our cups. I watched anxiously out of the corner of my eye as the waterfall came down to Santana. She smirked into her cup. It was super hard to keep up drinking with her, because this was the second time she was chugging down her glass to force me to drink more.

"God damn," I gasped when she finally let up. She was giggling as I coughed and tried to clear my throat.

"And I thought you could handle your alcohol," Santana said, twisting around and shuffling towards me. I was surprised by how forward she was being when she placed her hands on my knees. Her eyes were half closed and she smiled at me as she leaned forward, and I knew it was because she was drunk. I tilted my head a little and let my hand cup her cheek, because hell, I was drunk too. She pressed her lips to mine, and I couldn't help but part mine a little to try and catch her lower lip. I leaned forward and deepened the kiss. I think we both forgot everyone was there, because she lifted her hand to my face and pulled me closer as she kissed back.

"Woah, cool it down," Mercedes said, throwing a pillow at us. I felt a giggle bubble in my throat. The force of the pillow was enough to break our kissing, but I ended up falling forward and nuzzling Santana's neck. She was giggling too.

"What, she's a good kisser!" Santana exclaimed.

"Nah, you are," I laughed, hugging the pillow and snuggling her.

"Break it up, you two," Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Obviously, Santana's had enough."

"I'm perfectly fine...!" Santana laughed, slumping into me. She was wobbly. Or maybe I was. I wasn't sure.

"Two hard hits by the waterfall, yeah, she's drunk," Quinn shook her head and stood up. "New game?"

"Karaoke!" Rachel said.

"Yes, definitely," Kurt smiled and scrambled up. "Ohh, wait, Brittany. You should sing!"

"Why?" I giggled, twisting to rest the side of my head on Santana's shoulder.

"Consider it your Glee club audition," Kurt said, passing the microphone to me.

"I can't sing as well as you guys," I laughed. "I'm only good at dancing."

"Don't lie!" Santana took the microphone for me, but accidentally dropped it. I grinned as we both tried to pick it up. I slapped my hand on top of hers and she nudged me with her arm. She twirled it around in her hand and let me take it, giving me a shy smile.

"Sing a Britney Spears song!" Kurt pleaded. I laughed as I got to my feet.

"No!" I said into the microphone. It echoed loudly and he shot his hands up to cover his ears.

"No," Santana shook her head. "Brittany doesn't have to sing Britney. Sing what you want."

"How does this work? Glee club songs?" I asked into the microphone, a little quieter.

"Mr. Schue would usually give us an assignment," Rachel said. I tilted my head to the side, because I had no idea who 'Mr. Shoe' was. In my head, I just saw an old sneaker that had the sole ripped off the bottom as a flap for a mouth.

"But we'd usually just end up singing to each other," Mercedes laughed, nudging Kurt with her elbow.

"Or passive-aggressive singing about each other's boyfriends," Tina rolled her eyes at Quinn and Rachel. Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Pick something you want to sing about," Quinn said. "It can be anything."

"We're judging you on your voice, not your song selection," Santana winked. I blushed and turned to stumble to the karaoke machine.

"How recent are these songs?" I asked. Rachel scrambled up to help me. She picked up her iPod that was resting on the machine.

"I try to keep up-to-date as much as possible. I have over 5,000 songs. Musicals, pop music, Barbra Streisand, Gaga. Oh, you could sing something from Anything Goes?" Rachel said quickly and excitedly. I furrowed my brow.

"I have no idea what you just said," I said, taking her iPod from her and scrolling through the list.

"Just pick a song you know," Tina laughed. I nodded and kept looking. I wanted to sing a good song, but I was bad at picking them. Santana was good at picking songs. She helped me pick a song for my dance class. It had been a really good song. It had all this meaning behind it, like she knew what I wanted to express through my dancing. That must why Santana was a music major. Maybe I could find a song that she would like. I glanced back at her and caught her grinning at me with her arms draped over her knees. She always looked pretty when she smiled.

"Okay," I said as I found a song. "Back up, I'ma dance."

"You're supposed to sing," Kurt said, scrambling off the floor and onto the couch. Mercedes swept the cards back and pushing them together until she had them all stacked. Everyone grabbed their drinks and piled onto the couch.

"Woo!" Santana cheered. "Who cares! Go, Brittany!"

I grinned toothily and turned around as I clicked the play button and set it down. I looked to the TV for the lyrics as the instrumentals started. I shook my hips to the beat as there was a _clap clap clap_ on what sounded like a can.

"You're insecure," I sang as I twirled around. I winked at Santana. "Don't know what for. You're turning heads when you walk through the do-oh-or." I spun my index finger around my temple before pointing at the front door and stepping back. "Don't need make up. To cover up. Huh! Being the way that you are is eno-uh-ough!"

Santana flushed and glanced away. I was grinning.

"Everyone else in the room can see it," I said, stepping forward again and shuffling my shoulders back and forth as I let my hands spread to my sides to gesture to everyone in the room. "Everyone else but you-ooh," I sang louder, pointing at Rachel. She looked confused, and everyone laughed.

"Baby, you light up my world like nobody else," I stepped forward and leaned in towards Kurt. I puckered my lips and blew him a kiss. His grin faded as he blushed. "The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed," I said as I flicked my hair back and then fanned my hand at my exposed neck.

"But when you smile at the ground, it ain't hard to tell," I said, glancing at Santana. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You don't know-oh-oh! You don't know you're beautiful!" I pointed to from Tina to Quinn to Rachel.

"If only you saw what I can see," I said, raising my hand up to point at my eyes. "You'll understand why I want you so desperately," I said, dropping my hand to my chest and clutching my fist above my heart as I swayed back and forth to the beat. "Right now, I'm looking at you and I can't believe," I let my hand stretch out and gestured to Santana. "You don't know-oh-oh, you don't know you're beautiful-oh-oh, oh! That's what makes you beautiful!"

I wiggled for a second as I waited for the lyrics to load on the television.

"So c-c-come on," I said, and punched at the air. "You got it wrong. To prove I'm right, I put it in a so-oh-ong," I sang, over exaggerating holding the mike with both hands as I doubled over. "I don't know why. You're being shy. And turn away when I look into your eye-ah-eye!"

I kept glancing back at Santana, and she averted her gaze. I noticed Tina was glancing at Santana too, so I stumbled towards them.

"Everyone else in the room can see it," I said, grabbing Tina's hand and lifting her up. "Everyone else but you-ooh," I grinned and twirled her around. I stepped back as she laughed and sat back down. "Baby you light up my world, like nobody else. The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed. But when you smile at the ground, it ain't hard to tell...you don't know-oh-oh! You don't know you're beautiful!"

I stepped back and lifted my hands up at them as I bounced.

"If only you saw what I can see!" Rachel and Quinn joined in, all smiles.

"You'll understand why I want you so desperately!" I shouted as Kurt and Mercedes sang along.

"Right now, I'm looking at you and I can't believe," Tina grinned and nudged Santana.

"You don't know-oh-oh! You don't know you're beautiful! Oh-oh-oh! That's what makes you beautiful," Santana sang, moving her hands in the air as she sang the oh's. She was grinning and I swear I could see all her teeth.

"Nah na na na na na na...na na," I said, jumping up and clapping my hands.

"Na na na na na na," they sang as I pointed the microphone at them. They were clapping along, and it made me feel like a rock star. I swayed with the music as I pointed the mike back at myself and then back at them when we sang the next rows of na's. It was so silly.

"Baby, you light up my world, like nobody else," I said, stepping forward and ceasing all wiggling. "The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed," I continued, locking eyes with Santana. They'd stopped clapping. "Then when you smile at the ground, it ain't hard to tell..." I stepped back as everyone but Santana sang 'You don't know-oh-oh-!'

"You don't know you're beautiful!" I shouted. Santana shook her head and started laughing as we all tried to sing the chorus. I was jumping again, and they all got up to dance with me. I grabbed Santana's hands and shuffled back and forth with her. She still wasn't singing, just giggling. When the song ended, I pulled her closer and hugged her.

"You're such a dork," she laughed, wrapping her arms around my back and swaying me back and forth as if the music were still playing. She twisted us a little so that she was facing away from everyone and then placed a soft kiss on my neck.

"Thank you," she whispered. I grinned. She knew I sang the song for her.

"What do you say, girls?" Kurt asked, glancing at Mercedes and Rachel. "Think we would have let her join Glee club?"

"Oh hell yes," Mercedes nodded and I pulled away from Santana a little.

"You don't have the range that some of us do..." Rachel started, but Kurt and Mercedes shot her a glare. "But you definitely nailed it."

"Awesome!" I smiled.

* * *

><p>"Shots, shots, shots!" I shouted. I was hopping on the couch next to Quinn and Tina. They had been talking in hushed voices, so I decided to stop them. I didn't know what they were up to, but they weren't drinking or singing.<p>

"S-st-o-pp B-Brittany!" Quinn said, smacking my leg. I laughed and jumped off the couch and grabbed her hands. Santana was already stumbling back from the kitchen with an armful of shot glasses. Mercedes and Kurt were already on the floor, so they just shuffled over to the coffee table.

"Give me that," Santana said, grabbing the microphone away from Rachel as she wobbled over. She leaned forward and clicked off the karaoke machine.

"B-but-" Rachel looked heartbroken. I mean, legitimately heartbroken. Santana shoved a shot glass in her face.

"Take that," Santana commanded, and Rachel complied. I pulled Tina and Quinn off the couch in time for Santana to finish pouring our shots and hand them off to us.

"Ya'll aren't nearly drunk enough," Santana said as she rose her glass to clink it with the rest of us. She gulped it back and cringed as she drew the glass away from her face. The look she gave made not want to drink my shot, but I did it anyway. It was super gross and really hard to swallow. I wrinkled my nose.

"Ugh, Santana, you could have gotten us some lime and salt if you were going to give us tequila," Quinn said, pressing the back of her hand under her nose.

"Would you trust me with a knife right now?" Santana laughed.

"She's got a point," Kurt said, clearing his throat from the shot. "Maybe I should do it."

"Good idea," Tina nodded. Tina and Kurt got up and went into the kitchen as I wiggled into Kurt's spot next to Santana. She beamed at me.

"Want to dance?" she giggled. I nodded, shaking my head up and down a little too quickly. She twisted and grabbed the remote for the television and fumbled with it for a while until she found one of the music channels.

"Santana, not so loud, we'll get in trouble," Quinn said, snatching the remote out of her hands. Santana ignored her and turned back to me, grabbing my hands as we stumbled up. I started hopping to the beat the moment I was back on my feet. I was so glad Santana was holding me up, because I was sure I would have toppled over otherwise.

"-hands up, and touch the skyyy!" she sang along, lifting our hands up in the air. "Can't stop, 'cause we're so hiiiigh! Let's do this one more time!" She let go of my hands to start jumping on her own, reaching down to pull Quinn and Mercedes up. Quinn grabbed Rachel's arm and tugged her up, and we were all jumping around.

"We higher than a motherfucker-!" We shouted and bounced up and down.

"Jump in my hoopty hoopty hoop, I own that," I said, snapping my hand at Rachel as I leaned in. Then I pressed my back up against Quinn. "And I ain't payin' my rent dis month. I owe that." She gave me a quick look of concern, but then we both grinned.

"But fuck who you want and fuck who you like," I said, throwing my hand up and down to the beat as Santana said it with me. "Dance our life, there's no end in sight-"

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star," I said, dropping back and pretending to air drum when the verse cut off. I turned around and backed up into Santana, a devious grin on my face even though it was hard not to fall into her. She was laughing. I liked when she laughed. And when she danced with me. Dancing with Santana was the best. Suddenly she wasn't laughing anymore, though, because her cheeks were really red.

"Britt, put your shirt back on," she laughed, flicking her eyes away as I turned to face her. I smiled and scooted closer.

"Wha-oh," Mercedes stumbled back. "Is that what you were talking about, Quinn?"

"Yeah, she does that," Quinn said. I looked up in time to catch her winking at Tina as she came back with properly cut limes.

"Operation Lady Pants is a-go," Rachel giggled. Quinn swatted her and hissed for her to quiet. Santana was trying to get me to lift my arms so she could put my shirt back on.

"Britt, c'mon," she laughed. I leaned closer to her so she couldn't tug it back on.

"What's operation lady pants?" I giggled, leaning back. Santana caught my hands as I kept bending backwards to look at Quinn and Rachel upside-down.

"Nothing," Quinn said. "Rachel's drunk."

"Brittany, stop moving," Santana said. She was still trying to put my shirt back on.

"Just leave her," Tina said, holding up a glass to Santana. "As long as she keeps her bra on. Then we'll have a problem."

We all took another round of shots, this time careful to lick the salt from the gap between our thumbs and our index fingers. I couldn't keep my hand steady enough for the salt, so Santana poured it into my palm. It didn't take long for me to feel even woozier than I already was.

"Jesus, Britt, you're shit-faced," Santana laughed. I leaned into her side and scooted my head closer to her face. She drew back a little when she realized I was trying to kiss her.

"You swore," I muttered. "Britt-Kiss..."

"We're not playing Kings anymore," Santana said, brushing her hand through my hair.

"I think the rule should still be in place," Tina said, looking to Quinn. "What says you? You made the rule."

"Oh, I agree, definitely," Quinn nodded, not being very discreet with the grin that spread across her lips.

"That's not fair," Santana said. Her brow furrowed, and her grip tightened around my shoulder.

"You shouldn't swear so much," Tina laughed.

"I can't _fucking_ help it," Santana said. I looked up and saw that Santana looked really upset. Like, more than just annoyed.

"Oh, shit," Quinn spat as she set her glass down.

"I-it's not fair, we're n-not playing anymore," Santana blubbered. I tried to pull away from her, but her fingers tightened into my skin. I lifted my hand and gently rubbed her arm.

"Santana, stop, please don't cry-" Tina groaned. I shifted and pulled Santana closer to me. She reacted by burying her face in the crook of my neck, and I felt her shoulders shake beneath my palm as she sobbed.

"Shh, Santana," I cooed. "It's okay. They're just teasing. You don't have to."

"So fucking mean," Santana cried into my shoulder. I let my fingers run up her spine and back down, tickle massaging her back.

"It's okay," I nodded. "Just calm down."

"I'm okay, really," she shook her head as she pulled back. She didn't look okay, but she waved her hand in front of her when I tried to pull her back into another hug. "I'm fine."

"Well, we're done drinking," Quinn sighed as she stood up. "C'mon, let's go set up the air mattresses for you guys."

"You have an air mattress?" I said, twisting away from Santana for a moment.

"Yeah, of course," Quinn said, furrowing her brow. "You would know, remember? You slept on one before Santana took you to get your mattress."

I froze, widening my eyes a little. That wasn't true. I slept in Santana's be- Oh. Had Santana told them otherwise?

"Right..." I nodded. "Are they all going to fit in here?"

"Kurt's taking the couch," Rachel said. "But Mercedes is bunking with me. And Tina with Quinn."

"Actually, can I bunk with you, Britt?" Tina asked. "I kinda miss my old room."

I looked over to Santana. She was nuzzling her cheek into my arm. I scanned her eyes, trying to find out if that was alright. I wanted to make sure she was okay tonight, but I didn't know how to turn down Tina's request. She looked absently up at me, not any help at all.

"That's fine," I nodded. Santana squeezed her hand against my arm, but it was too late for her silent protest.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry it took so long. It was hard to keep track of all the characters, and I'm not sure it turned out how I had it in my head. I'll admit the pancake rap was a surprise, but I had fun writing it.**

**Brittany's dance performance is Remember the Name by Fort Minor - .com/watch?v=ENLOFmxRlFs**

**Brittany sings What Makes You Beautiful by One Direction - .com/watch?v=QJO3ROT-A4E&ob=av2e (I've heard some negative feedback about the song, but I just think about Santana when I hear it. :) Plus I liked pointing out that Rachel is COMPLETELY oblivious to the fact that Brittana is on in this.)**

**They dance to Starships by Nicki Minaj - .com/watch?v=N-8MagxjOrE**

**Sorry, these songs have been stuck in my head lately. Whether or not its because I planned to use them or not, I'm not sure. I just love Starships. WE HIGHER THAN A MOTHERFUCKER-!**

**-HeeBee**


	23. The Tickle Fight

"Wow, it's so different," Tina said, looking around my room from the doorway. I stepped forward and helped her pull the air mattress into my room.

"Yeah? But it's not even decorated yet," I smiled. I really just had my bed there and my things. It was still the same dresser and desk that Tina had left behind, but I had moved them around. I had a bookshelf, but it still had a few smaller boxes sitting in it and no books.

"Mm. I had so much crap in here, I could never see the floor," Tina said, kicking the mattress so that it lined up against my bed. She pulled out the sheet from under her arm, tossing the rest of what she was holding into a small pile, and I helped her fold it over the sides of the mattress. It was so much easier to make a bed with two people, even if I was wobbly and not super helpful.

"Here, hold on," Tina said, once we got the sheets put on. She pulled my shirt out from the pile and made me stand still. I wasn't wiggling around any more because there wasn't any music, so I let Tina pull my shirt over my head and pull my arms through the sleeves.

"There you go, good as new," Tina smiled.

"Thanks, Tina," I said, smiling sheepishly. "Do you need a pillow? I have like a million."

"That would be nice, yes. Thank you," Tina said as I turned to my bed. I jumped on it, belly first, and Tina sat down next to me.

"Pick whichever one you want," I said, squishing my face against my comforter. I was suddenly really tired.

"He's so cute," Tina said. I slide my face off the blanket and saw that she was holding Jeremy.

"Not him!" I shouted, scrambling up and snatching him out of her hands. She held her empty hands in the air, eyes widening. I held Jeremy close to my chest, staring wildly back at Tina. I lowered my gaze and looked at him. He was squished tightly against me, and his purple mane was sticking out all over the place. I loosened my hold on him.

"Sorry, I'll pick another one," Tina said quietly. "Didn't mean to steal your cuddle buddy."

"Yeah," I nodded. She didn't steal my cuddle buddy. Santana was my cuddle buddy. I fluffed Jeremy and fixed his strap so that he had legs again instead of his squarish pillow form. I sat for a moment just looking at him, wondering if maybe I should let Santana sleep with him tonight. But then I wouldn't have anyone to sleep with. I guess I could get Lord Tubbington, but what if he tried to sleep with Tina on the air mattress and popped it?

Tina grabbed one of my normal pillows and then crawled onto the air mattress. I twisted and shuffled my feet underneath my blanket, placing Jeremy next to me.

"Hey." As usual, Quinn didn't knock when she opened my door. I guess since Santana wasn't here, I'd forgotten to lock it.

"Brittany, Santana said you had a bunch of pillows. Can I borrow one for Mercedes?" she asked.

"Sure," I wiggled up a little.

"Don't take the unicorn," Tina warned.

"What's wrong with the unicorn?" Quinn said as she stepped over Tina.

"His name is Jeremy," I said, holding him up and hiding my face behind him. "I'm very cute and I poop rainbows," I made my voice a little higher as I shuffled him back and forth. Quinn giggled.

"It's nice to meet you, Jeremy," Quinn said and I forced his hoof forward for her to shake. She took it and wiggled it gently.

"Hey, Q," Tina sat up. "Did Santana stop crying?"

"Ugh, no, actually," Quinn sighed. "I did manage to tuck her into bed, though."

"She's still crying?" I said, shooting upright.

"Brittany, it's fine," Quinn said. "While you guys were getting the mattresses, I tried to help her get ready for bed. She started crying again because she ran out of toothpaste..."

"Really? Don't you use the same type of toothpaste, Q?" Tina said, furrowing her brow and shaking her head.

"Exact same flavor, even," Quinn sighed and looked back at me. "The point is, when she's like this, you just have to let her cry it out. She'll sober up."

I didn't really feel reassured. Even if it was over something as silly as toothpaste, I felt uncomfortable with Santana being upset. I wished so badly that I could go to her room and give her all the sweetest hugs and kisses I could to make her feel better. But Tina and Quinn would get suspicious.

"Don't look so concerned, Brittany," Quinn smiled, leaning forward to ruffle my hair. "You all need to get some sleep. Aren't you leaving tomorrow for Myrtle Beach?"

"We are," Tina nodded. "Have you even packed anything?" Tina glanced around my room.

"...oh, no, I forgot to," I said, my eyes widening.

"No worries," Tina shrugged. "Really just need a bathing suit and some clothes."

"Alright, well, I'm going to bed. Rachel and I still have a lot of packing to do tomorrow too," Quinn nodded. "By the way, Lord Tubbington is sleeping with Kurt. Rachel was really disappointed."

"I'm sure Lord Tubbington wasn't," I grinned. Quinn smiled back at me and stood up to leave. I was glad she was warming up to my jokes.

"Want me to turn off the light?" Quinn asked as she got to the door.

"Yes, please!" I said as I laid back down and snuggled Jeremy. Quinn flicked off the lights and then shut the door behind her as she left.

"Hey, Brittany," Tina said from the floor. I heard her twist on the mattress, so I scooted closer to the edge of my bed to look down at her.

"Yeah?" I asked. We were whispering, and I wasn't sure why. I think when the lights are out, you just feel like you have to whisper everything.

"How is living with these guys? You've been here for a few weeks now," Tina said, propping her head up with her arm.

"I love it here," I said, squishing into Jeremy and laying my head right at the edge of the mattress. "I'm really really glad that I moved in."

"That's good," Tina sighed and laid back. "I'm glad you moved in too. I love these girls, and I was so scared that leaving them to move in with Mike would really upset the balance."

"You're really cool," I said.

"What?" Tina rose her brow and looked at me.

"You really care about your friends, and they trust you a lot," I said. "You look out for them."

"We all do," Tina said and tilted her head. "They have really strong personalities, don't they? They clash a lot, and I guess I try to act as a buffer."

"See? That's what makes you cool," I nodded. "You put them first a lot, don't you?"

"I guess so," Tina smiled. "Before glee club, I didn't have any friends."

"Really? Why? You're so nice," I said.

"I used to be really, really shy," Tina shrugged. "It was hard to talk to people. I'm still really introverted, but Glee club helped me break out of my shell. I'm so thankful for that."

"Mm," I nodded. It was the same story, over and over again. They all were connected by this glee club thing. I had a feeling if I asked Rachel and Quinn, they would reiterate the same feelings.

"Santana really likes you," Tina said softly. I looked down again at Tina and took in a sharp breath. I wasn't sure what kind of 'like' she meant.

"She had it rough for the past few years," Tina said. The way she was looking up at the ceiling made me wonder if something was up there. I turned onto my back and stared up at the slow moving ceiling fan.

"I think she was trying to shut us out," Tina sighed. "I still don't really know why."

"How do you mean?"

"Well," Tina paused. "Her job is her life. Or was, I suppose. It's weird, because she's been so different lately. She used to just go to class, if she woke up for it, sleep, and work."

"Didn't you guys try to hang out with her?"

"Of course we did," Tina said, shaking her head. "But we could only get her out of her room so much, you know?"

"I guess," I said. I wondered why Santana had been like that.

"Thank you," Tina said. I sat up.

"For what?"

"Santana needed someone to help brighten her world up," Tina said. "You really don't know how much of a relief it is that someone like you moved in."

"...It's really easy to like Santana, though," I said.

"For you, maybe," Tina said. "That's good, though."

"She's really nice. You all are," I said quietly.

"She said you had it rough at your old school. And even now, with that fight and everything," Tina said. "We're here for you. You know that, right?"

"I do," I nodded. "But thank you for saying it out loud."

"Any time."

We laid in silence for a while. I think Tina was falling asleep, and as tired as I had been moments ago, I suddenly felt wide awake. I couldn't get the image of Santana crying out of my head. I knew she wasn't really upset, but after hearing Tina talk about her before I'd moved in, I really didn't like her being alone. I wanted to be there, every minute I could. When she fell asleep and when she woke up, just so she knew she always had someone to hold her if she needed it.

_Tap tap tap._

Tina sat up, and I knew I hadn't been the only one to hear it. My eyes darted to the window as I scrambled up.

"Brittany!" Tina hissed, but I knew who was at the window. I unlocked the latch, and Santana came tumbling in. I managed to catch her, and she buried her face in my shoulder.

"Why did you climb in through the window?" Tina whispered harshly.

"I-I didn't want to wake anyone," Santana sniffled.

"Are you okay?" I asked, leaning back a little to get a better look at her face. She had a few tears streaming down her face. I frowned and lifted my hand to wipe the few on her cheeks away. She nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she shook her head. "I j-just wanted to kn-know if I could borrow Jeremy."

"What? The unicorn?" Tina asked, picking him up off my mattress.

"Sh-shut up, Tina," Santana stammered. "Yes, the unicorn. His name is Jeremy." She sounded really defensive.

"It's okay, shh," I said, letting my hand raise to stroke the back of her head. She started crying a little more and leaned into me.

"Santana, do you just want to have a slumber party in here? With us?" Tina asked.

"N-no, it's okay," Santana mumbled. "I j-just want Jeremy."

"Santana," I whispered and wrapped my arms around her. I just wanted her to stay. "Please. It's fine, I don't mind."

Santana looked up at me. The tears made her eyes look really big and her lower lip was puffing out a little. I wanted so badly to kiss her and make her feel better. I settled for squeezing her arm gently.

"Okay," Santana said. Her voice was small and I barely heard it. I let her crawl onto my bed and I followed after her. I handed her Jeremy once she was beneath the covers and then scooted my feet underneath the blanket. She lifted it and patted it down over me as I settled in next to her.

"Everyone usually thinks she's obnoxious when she gets like this," Tina said from the bedside. "But you're being all kinds of adorable right now, Santana."

"S-sorry," she said, hugging Jeremy tightly to her chest.

"Don't be, it's cute," I wiggled closer to her and gently let my fingers tickle her arm. "Better?"

Santana gave me a weak half-smile as Tina crawled back to her air mattress.

"Go to sleep, guys," Tina said. I heard her shuffling with her blanket, so I knew she had laid down. Santana turned on her side to face me, and I twisted a bit to do the same.

"Thank you," Santana mouthed. She rose her head a little to look over my shoulder towards Tina. I think I knew what she was thinking, and I wanted to kiss her too. I didn't think Tina would see, but like usual, I was worried because I didn't think I could _just_ kiss Santana. Not once, anyway. She surprised me though, because instead of leaning forward and pressing her lips to mine, she did something just as sweet. She lifted Jeremy away from her chest and gave him a little kiss on the muzzle and then pushed him towards me and pressed the spot she had kissed to my lips.

"Thanks," I whispered as quietly as I could, and I felt my cheeks flush. I moved my hand under the covers and searched around for hers. When I found it, she twisted her hand around so that I could hold it. I gave her a reassuring squeeze. I think the contact was enough, because she didn't look as weepy anymore. She sighed contently and leaned forward, resting her head below mine as she inched towards me. We weren't touching beyond holding hands, but I could almost feel her against me, and it was better than not having her there at all.

* * *

><p>I felt something warm and soft on the crook of my neck, and I smiled. Santana was nuzzling me, so I instinctively pulled her closer. I felt her body press into mine, with the exception of the space between our torsos. Something was squishing between us. My eyes fluttered open, and I nudged Santana with my nose. Her head fell back a little and she blinked sleepily as she looked up at me.<p>

"Morning," she whispered. She looked so out of it. I smiled and looked down to see Jeremy squashed between our chests. Wait, why was Jeremy there?

"Little perv," Santana giggled as she moved her arm from mine to fish him out of the crevasse between our bodies. My eyes widened, and I twisted around quickly. I regretted it immediately, because the room started spinning.

"Whoa," Santana said, stretching out to grab my arm. She sat up, and we both froze. Tina was still asleep, sprawled across the air mattress on her stomach.

"Jesus, I forgot she was here," Santana whispered.

"At least we weren't doing anything," I whispered as I turned back to her with an embarrassed smile.

"Not true," she smirked, lifting her hand to the crook of my neck. I glanced down as best I could, but try as I might, I couldn't quite see what she was gesturing at. I figured it out, of course. Santana hadn't been nuzzling my neck when I woke up. She plucked at a few strands of my hair, letting it fall forward over my shoulder to cover the hickey.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"How long were you awake?" I giggled.

"Long enough to do damage," Santana laughed quietly. She leaned forward and quickly kissed my cheek.

"Santana," I gasped and my eyes widened, quickly darting to Tina.

"Relax, she drank a lot too last night," Santana said. "Little miss Asian ain't all that great at holding her alcohol." She leaned in to kiss me again, this time on the lips, but we froze when there was rustling next to us.

"Unghhh," Tina groaned as she sat up from the mattress. Santana and I shot apart just before she turned to look up at us. "What are you guys doing...?"

"Talking," Santana said, arching her brow. "About how ridiculous you look."

"You look terrible," I said, and then shrugged as I glanced to Santana. "I look awesome."

"You do, even with a hangover," Santana winked at me.

"Stop, what? No," Tina waved her hand in the air as she twisted around. She was tangled in her blanket, and the fact that the air mattress had deflated a bit over night didn't help, because she ended up tumbling to the floor.

"Graceful like a geisha," Santana smiled.

"I'm not Japanese, Santana. That's racist," she spat.

"I'm joking, geez," Santana rolled her eyes and leaned over to help Tina untangle herself.

"What time is it?" Tina said, groggily rubbing her eyes once her arms were free.

"A little past nine," I said, looking at my clock.

"Shit, I need to get home. I still need to pack too," Tina grumbled.

"Do you want breakfast, first?" Santana asked, tilting her head to the side.

"No, no, I'll just call Mike," Tina said as she stood up. "I'm going to get changed real quick..." Santana and I remained on my bed while Tina stumbled out of my room to the bathroom.

"Well, that was close," Santana grinned, leaning forward and pressing her lips to mine before I could protest.

"Santana, she's gonna come back," I said, tearing away from her face and swatting her gently.

"Not for like, two minutes," Santana said, inching towards me again. I giggled and leaned back, but it wasn't a good idea. She started to crawl over my legs and I couldn't lean back any further, so I fell into the mattress.

"Nowhere else to go," Santana grinned, looming over me. I stared up at her, trying not to grin as I tugged at her shirt.

"Stop it, we're gonna get in trouble," I giggled. She dipped down and nuzzled her nose to my nose before pressing her lips gently against mine. They were so soft. Every time she kissed me, it surprised me just how much her lips felt perfectly against mine. She deepened her kissing, forcing me to sigh against her lips. I felt her grin and then her tongue darted out to skate against my lower lip. As much as I wanted to make-out with Santana, it made me remember how little time it took for someone to change their clothes. I didn't want to push her away, but we were going to get caught. My hand shot up to her stomach and I started tickling her.

"Oh, god, Britt!" Santana laughed as she tore her lips away from mine and fell into the crook of my neck. She started tickling me back, and soon we were roaring with laughter and rolling around in the bed.

"Stop it!" I shouted, twisting to see Tina standing in the doorway with her head tilted to the side. Santana was panting as she sat up to let me get some air.

"You guys are way too touchy feely," Tina shook her head. I glanced at Santana and she nodded.

"Get her!" I yelled as I pounced from the bed. She took a panicked step backwards, but I caught her arm and pulled her towards the bed. Santana lifted her feet while I grabbed her other arm.

"Let me go!" Tina shouted.

"Yeah, sure," I grinned at Santana. We started to swing her back and forth.

"No-Stop!"

"Three... two... one...!" Santana and I counted together before throwing her onto the bed. She landed with an 'oof!' and before she could even scramble around, Santana and I jumped on her.

"Get off!" Tina laughed. I was tickling her stomach and Santana was pinning her arms down over her head so she couldn't push me off. "Please-! Stop! Help!"

"Okay, I'm not going to lie," a voice came from the doorway. We all snapped our heads up. Quinn was leaning against the door jam with a really stern expression on her face.

"You guys look ridiculous right now," she said, arching her brow. I looked down and saw she had her cell phone in her hands. I snapped my head back to Santana and grinned.

"Run, Quinn! Save yourself!" Tina shouted.

"I got the Asian," Santana said, twisting to keep Tina pinned as I tore from the bed. Quinn shrieked and ran down the hallway as I gave chase.

"What on earth is going on-!" Rachel spun as I dashed passed her and ran after Quinn to her room. She tried to slam the door, but I reached it before she could close it, throwing my shoulder into the door. She screamed again and jumped over her bed to the space between it and the wall. I stood on the other side, arms extended. I barely had a chance to take in her room. She had photos pinned up everywhere and a ton of bookshelves. I was too distracted by her feigning left and right to notice anything else.

"Stay back," Quinn said, extending her hand in front of her, letting her other hand fall behind her as she felt around for something, anything. I wasn't sure what she was going to do if she found something, but I didn't want to wait and find out. I popped forward a bit, and she jumped back.

"Rachel! Help!" Quinn shouted.

"No," Rachel said from the bathroom.

"Quinn! HELP!" We heard Tina shout from my room, followed by the melodious and maniacal laugh of Santana.

"Please, mercy," Quinn said as she scooted towards the edge of the bed.

"Nope," I grinned as I darted at her. She jumped and scrambled over the bed, but I managed to swerve around and catch her around the waist.

"Rachel! Please!" Quinn squealed.

"You are acting like a bunch of buffoons," we heard Rachel say from the hallway.

"STOP BEING A JERK AND HELP!" Quinn roared as I threw her onto her bed and started to tickle her. She was wriggling and trying to kick me off.

"Anything! Please! Stop!" she howled. I pinned both her arms up above her head with one hand and held up my free hand threateningly.

"Give me your phone," I said.

"Wh-what?"

"Your phone," I said, tugging at it from her clenched hand. She let it go immediately.

"Fine, take it, take whatever you want," Quinn laughed. I shot backwards once I had her phone and unlocked it. Okay. Photos, she had taken photos. How did I access those?

"Go rescue Tina," I said, to buy some time. She sat up, giving me a cautious glance and then I spread my arms and jumped towards her a little. She shrieked again and ran. I looked back down at her phone. Her photo app had several folders and I was confused. Santana just had one giant mess of photos. There was one called 'Operation Lady Pants,' and I remembered Rachel saying that yesterday. Inside was the picture of Santana and I that Tina took last night, along with the photo Quinn took just now of us tickling Tina on my bed. There were more photos, though. She must have taken them last night. A lot of them were of Santana and I. Like, almost all of them.

"How do I send things?" I muttered out loud. I had to work quickly. Santana let me play with her phone enough that I had learned how to navigate, but I'd only ever seen her send pictures.

"Okay okay okay," I muttered under my breath. I quickly tapped the screen of Quinn's iPhone and selected the arrow in the upper right hand corner of the photo album. It gave me a few options, but 'share' was grayed out. Ugh, this was going to take too long. I selected as many as I could before I heard Santana shouting for me. I hit share and then message and sent them to Santana before pocketing Quinn's phone.

"Rachel, watch it," I said, shooting past her in the hallway. "Hide! Get to safety!"

"Um," Rachel said and stared after me. "Okay..."

"Get off Santana!" I shouted as I jumped into my room. I grabbed the pillow from Tina's air mattress with my left arm and made a grab to duel wield Jeremy in my other. Santana was pinned similarly to how she and I had held down Tina before. "I have a unicorn and I know how to use him!"

"Get her!" Quinn shouted, holding Santana's arms down. Tina dashed at me, but I smacked her in the face with Jeremy.

"Oof!" She reeled back as Santana overpowered Quinn. She darted forward and snatched my hand. I dropped the second pillow and let her pull me towards the door.

"Run!" Santana shrieked. We stumbled through the hallway. "Move it, Berry!"

"Stop shouting!" Rachel barked, but Santana ignored her and pulled me into her room. She slammed the door behind me just as Quinn and Tina started pounding on it. With a click, the door was locked, and we were safe.

"Oh my God," I gasped, stepping back and dropping Jeremy on the floor. I was so out of breath, but I couldn't stop giggling. I didn't get a chance to catch my breath though, because Santana crashed into me and pressed me up against the wall. It happened so quickly I couldn't protest if I wanted to. She pressed her lips against mine and I gasped. She was sliding her hands up my sides as she pulled me closer, digging her nails against the fabric of my shirt. I pulled her closer as she dragged her hands up the sides of my face. I staggered forward and away from the wall, letting my fingers roam up her back and tangle in her hair. She fell back against her bed and pulled me down on top of her.

"S-santana," I gasped as I broke away from her lips to flipped me over and dove in to run her tongue over my throat, pausing just under my jaw to suck on it.

"Santana! Brittany! Open this door right now!" Quinn shouted, hammering on the door. We shouldn't be doing this. I knew we shouldn't, not with them outside the door.

"Suck it, Fabray!" Santana growled as she tore away from my neck. I leaned up and pulled her back into me. I couldn't help it.

"Where are Kurt and Mercedes?" I heard Tina ask, although I hardly cared. I was too preoccupied with Santana's tongue.

"I took them home already," Quinn said, her voice muffled by the door. The banging started up again.

"We're not going to tickle you!" Tina shouted.

"Seriously, I just need my phone back!" Quinn yelled, pounding at the door.

"Phone?" Santana pulled away from me and I grinned deviously, sliding Quinn's cell phone out of my pocket and wiggling it in front of Santana. She gave me a quizzical look.

"Traded her freedom for her photo album," I said slyly in a hoarse whisper. Her eyes widened and she leaned in to kiss me again.

"Britt...any...you...are...a...gen...ius..." she said between kisses. I wrapped my arm around her neck and tugged her closer.

"Open the damn door!" Tina shouted. There were a few more knocks before we heard Quinn let out a cry of frustration.

"Fuck it, I'm going through the fire escape," Quinn shouted.

"Shit," Santana said, pulling away from me. She didn't look that concerned, because she was grinning. "Gimme her phone."

"I already sent you the pictures," I said, running my thumb under my lower lip. I leaned forward and ran my fingers up to fix her hair.

"You little _minx_," Santana grinned. "Lemme delete the evidence."

"No, she'll know what I did!" I said, making a grab at the phone.

"Not that evidence," she shook her head and pulled up the message app. She swiped her finger across the sent messages and deleted the notification that 'Quinn' had sent her any photos. She clicked the lock button, but I snatched it out of her hands.

"Wait, wait," I grinned. I unlocked the phone again and turned the camera on. "Smile."

"Fuck you," she said, flipping off the camera. I made a similar gesture and stuck out my tongue. We saved it to the album just as Quinn was prying Santana's window open. Santana must have left it unlocked when she crawled into my room last night.

"I have a flight to catch, come on, give it back," Quinn said, stretching out her hand. Tina was crawling through the window too.

"Calm down," Santana said, tossing the phone at her.

"What did you do?" Quinn asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Nothing, just downloaded a bunch of porn apps," Santana scrambled up and pulled me to the door.

"You didn't!" Quinn shouted. She dove down and grabbed Jeremy as Santana jerked the door open. I twisted as she tugged it open to catch Jeremy as she threw him at me.

"Later, suckaaaaasss," Santana laughed.

* * *

><p>"C'mon, Santana," I said, picking through my closet. "Tina said she would be back soon, and she doesn't want us holding up anything further. It's like a twelve hour drive."<p>

"Why bother packing clothes?" Santana said. She pressed further against me from behind, letting her fingers tickle at the bare skin exposed under the hem of my shirt. She pressed her lips to my neck, and a sigh escaped my lips.

"I'm just going to take them all off you anyway," she whispered before nipping my earlobe. My eyes widened and I felt a shudder run down my spine.

"S-stop, Santana, we still have to pack your things," I said, twisting around, one of my shirts balled up in my hand.

"I'll just borrow your clothes," Santana said, licking my neck now that she had front access to it.

"I only have one bathing suit," I giggled and swatted at her.

"Not a problem," she smiled. She lowered back to the crook of my neck. God, she needed to stop doing that.

"S-santana, I already have one hickey," I groaned.

"Mm, make that two," she said, pulling away from me and tapping the spot she had been kissing with her fingertip.

"Damn it, Santana!" I tossed my shirt at her. "Go get your things!"

"Please don't kick me out," Santana giggled. "I promise to sit still."

"No. Do you even have anything in your suitcase?"

"I thought we were sharing a suitcase," Santana said, stepping back to look down at my bag. "You were putting everything to one side."

"That's cause it's the only suitcase I have, and I don't need all that space. I was lining everything up at the bottom so it wouldn't get messy when we put it in the car," I said.

"So... can we share a suitcase?" Santana wiggled closer to me.

"If you get your things," I said, arching my brow. She kissed my nose and jumped back.

"Okay!" she said happily. I rolled my eyes as she hopped out of my room. She got so happy over the littlest things. I hadn't even finished going through the rest of my closet when she scrambled back in with an armful of clothes.

"What, no, don't just dump it," I said, catching her arm. "What do you even have?"

I made her sit down and go through her clothes with me. We folded everything and placed it gently in the upper portion of my suitcase. She'd forgotten shoes, her bathing suit, and underwear, but I think she did the last one on purpose.

"Okay, get those last three things, and I'll grab the stuff from the bathroom," I said, grabbing Jeremy off my bed and placing him on the open flap of the suitcase.

"Nu-uh, he's staying here," Santana said, grabbing him and taking him off the suitcase.

"Why can't he come? I can't bring Lord Tubbington!"

"No, I fight enough with Jeremy here," Santana said, and tossed him onto the bed. She stepped towards me and wrapped her hands around my back. "I'm a much better pillow pet."

"Mm, I don't know," I said, rolling my eyes. "You're not purple."

"Can he give you kisses?" Santana asked.

"Actually, he can," I shrugged. She frowned.

"Not as good as mine, right?" Santana asked sincerely. She looked a little hurt. I laughed and pressed my lips to hers.

"No, your sweet lady kisses are my favorite," I murmured. Santana giggled.

"So you'll leave him home?" she said, looking up at me.

"Yes, but you have to fulfill all his pillow pet duties," I said.

"I thought I already was," Santana titled her head to the side.

"You have been," I said, hugging her tightly. "But you can't complain about over exposure to cuddles, okay?"

"I would never," she gasped. "I can't believe you would think that. I need cuddles just as much as you do."

"And kisses?" I said.

"And kisses," Santana nodded, kissing my nose. She leaned forward and nuzzled her cheek against mine. "And anything else you want."

"Not need?" I asked.

"What you want," she hummed.

* * *

><p>"What is this?" Tina said as I pulled our suitcase towards her car. She pried out a soft, plush purple something from wedged between her and Mike's bags.<p>

"Brittany, you do know hotels provide pillows, right?" Tina furrowed her brow.

"I didn't put him there!" I said.

"And I suppose he just magically rainbow poof'd himself there," Tina said. Santana darted around and snatched Jeremy out of Tina's hands. "Wha-"

"I changed my mind," Santana said quickly and dove into the back seat of the car. Tina gave her a quizzical look and then stepped towards me.

"One bag?" Tina asked.

"Yeah, Santana and I didn't have all that much..." I said, peering into the car. Tina took the suitcase from me and I moved to my side of the car and opened the door.

"I thought we agreed to leave him home," I said, leaning down to look at her.

"But Brittany," Santana said, hiding from behind him. "What if you get sleepy? Or Santana gets sleepy? We're driving for 12 hours. What if one of you needs cuddles?"

I laughed, because Santana gave Jeremy a much cuter voice than I did. I slid into my seat next to her and she leaned closer to me.

"I need something to keep my hands on for twelve hours, and if it can't be you, then he's the next best thing," she whispered in my ear. I smiled and shut the door.

"Fine," I said. "But we're taking turns."

"Yay," she said in her Jeremy voice. "I get to go on a road trip with Santana and Brittany! And no evil kitty cats!"

"What are you doing, Santana?" Mike said as he sat down in the driver's seat. She froze, still hiding behind Jeremy.

"Absolutely nothing embarrassing that you will not mention to Tina," Santana said, dropping Jeremy into her lap. I snickered, and she hit me with Jeremy.

"You guys ready to go?" Tina asked as she sat down.

"Abso-_fucking_-lutely, let's get going," Santana said.

"Watch your mouth, or I'll reinstate the Britt-Kiss rule," Tina said, arching her brow as she buckled her seat belt. Santana kicked her chair.

"You have no jurisdiction in the matter," Santana said.

"Texted her royal highness," Tina said. "Quinn says you gotta Britt-Kiss."

"You're just saying that because you wanna see me get my sweet lady kisses on," Santana spat. Tina rose a brow.

"Sweet lady kisses?" Tina asked. Santana shrunk back in her seat, blushing.

"What's a Britt-Kiss?" Mike asked.

"If you swear, you have to kiss me," I grinned, leaning forward and puckering my lips at Mike. Tina swatted at me.

"Stay away from my boyfriend, Brittany!" Tina growled. Santana was glaring at me as well, so I shrunk back. Mike laughed.

"Like you need to worry about me," Mike said. "You swear more than I do, Tina."

"Fine, all in favor of Britt-Kisses?" Tina said, glancing around the car. Mike, Tina and I rose our hands. Santana gasped.

"Brittany, you traitor!" Santana shouted.

"But I like kissing people," I said, pouting. Really, I just wanted to kiss Santana, and if I had to kiss Mike or Tina once or twice to be able to do so, then I was willing to do that. Besides, it was only a matter of time before Santana swore again. I looked to her and gave her a wink, and her scowl softened.

"Fine, but the first one doesn't count, because you didn't apply the rule beforehand," Santana said, pouting. She grunted and kicked Tina's chair again.

"Kick my chair, one more time. Go on. Do it," Tina spat.

"Oh no, you did not," Santana said, reaching down to unbuckle herself. I caught her hand and Mike lifted his hand to put it in between them.

"Girls, I haven't even turned on the car. Can we try to get along?"

"We were just kidding, babe," Tina said, leaning forward and kissing Mike on the cheek.

"I _wasn't_," Santana huffed. I squeezed her hand and she rolled her eyes as a smile escaped her lips.

Tina and Santana spent the first half hour of the car ride not talking. It was okay, though, because Mike and I made up for it. He asked how my midterms went, and I was really excited to tell him. Eventually, Santana piped up, and he laughed at her explanation of my repertory midterm - how she thought I was awesome and I shoved it in Avery and Tara's faces. After that, Santana asked Tina to turn on the radio, and they weren't being mean to each other any more.

"I like this one," I whispered to Santana, huddling over her phone. We were finally getting a chance to look at the pictures I stole from Quinn's phone. My favorite was still the one they caught of us kissing, but I didn't say that. I was pointing to one where I was dancing playfully with Santana.

"Mm, I like this one," she said, sliding to the next one. It had me laying on the couch nearly upside-down with my head in Santana's lap. I was mid-laugh and she was smiling down at me, running her fingers through my hair.

"Rachel totally photo-bombed it. Look," Santana giggled. She pointed to Rachel, who was staring awkwardly in the background.

"What are you two doing?" Tina said, twisting around.

"Playing Angry Birds," Santana said.

"That takes two people?" Tina arched her brow. "And you hate Angry Birds, Santana."

"Britt needed help," Santana said, sitting up and placing her phone face down against the seat. "What? You bored?"

"Terribly," Tina admitted.

"We haven't even been driving an hour," Mike said.

"I just feel left out," Tina said. "Let's do something."

"Oh no, we're not starting up car games," Santana rolled her eyes.

"Then what do you recommend? Angry Birds?" Tina said, arching her brow.

We spent, like, an hour playing Scrabble on Tina and Mike and Santana's smartphones. Mike said I could use his since he was driving. After Santana thoroughly trashed us at it, we gave up and begged Mike to stop somewhere so we could get food. He didn't want to get off schedule, but we convinced him by talking about food for another half an hour. He was so hungry, he ate almost an entire Pizza Hut pizza to himself. He ended up giving himself a food coma, though, so Tina had to take over driving.

"So, Santana, when we get back from Spring Break, are you just working the rest of the time?" Tina said, keeping her eyes glued to the road.

"Yeah," Santana nodded. "I have to put in some day shifts though."

"Aw, so you have to be up during the day?" Tina teased.

"I get up early every morning!" Santana said.

"It's true, she does," I said. "She's always the last one up though."

"Not helping," Santana hissed.

"That's surprising," Tina said. "So much has changed since I moved out. It's like you're this whole new person."

"Fuck you, Tina," Santana grumbled.

"Britt-Kiss," Mike said sleepily. Tina and I both looked down at him and he smiled. "You girls need to stop arguing."

"I-but-" Santana protested. "I was doing so well..."

"Yeah, you were," I grinned and tapped her nose with my finger. She frowned and looked up at me. I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Her frown faded, and when I pulled away, she didn't look as upset.

"Not so bad, sober, huh?" I winked playfully. She blushed.

"Uh...hm. Mm." Santana cleared her throat and sat back in her seat. She had her arms crossed over her chest and turned to look out the window. I looked up and saw Tina looking at Santana in the rear view mirror.

"Can you turn the music up?" I said, pressing my cheek against the back of the driver's seat. Santana didn't seem as brave as she was yesterday about kissing me in front of other people. She looked really embarrassed. Tina stretched forward and turned up the volume, and I started to sway back and forth. She smiled at me, and I glanced back at Santana.

"On the upside of a downward spiral, my love for you went viral," Tina sang, and I grinned. Tina had a really nice voice too. Why were they all so good at singing?

"And I loved you every mile you drove away, but now here you are again," Mike sang as he sat up. It shocked me mostly because I thought he was still sleepy, but also because he sang pretty well too. I nudged Santana and she rolled her eyes.

"This song is so bad," she grumbled.

"So let's skip the 'how you been' and get down to the 'more than friends' at last," Tina sang, smiling at Mike. Mike joined her in singing the next part of the song, and I laughed. I didn't recognize this song, but they were good at performing it.

"Santana, don't be grumpy," I whispered, and leaned closer to her. "Would you like another kiss?"

Her eyes widened and darted to Mike and Tina, but they were too busy singing.

"All you have to do is swear," I winked. Santana gave me a weak smile.

* * *

><p>Tina made it all the way to Maryland before she couldn't drive anymore. Mike suggested that either Santana or I take over, and we pulled over to switch our seats around. Santana took over driving and I sat up in the passenger seat next to her.<p>

"Let's get rid of this awful music," Santana said as she started flipping through channels.

"My music selection was fine, Santana," Tina complained. I was beginning to wonder if Santana and Tina actually did get along at all. Maybe the car ride was just driving them up the wall.

"Those last three songs sounded like something Trouty mouth would sing at a fucking barbeque," Santana grumbled.

"Britt-Kiss," Tina, Mike, and I said in unison. She sat back and exhaled sharply.

"I'm really tired of this game," Santana rolled her eyes.

"Then don't swear so much," I said, leaning forward and pressing my lips to hers. She bowed her head a little and turned back to the steering wheel.

"You realize Tina is starting fights with you to get you to swear, right?" I said.

"I am not," Tina laughed.

"I didn't know my girlfriend was so evil," Mike said, leaning into Tina. She giggled and even I laughed.

"That's just mean," I said. Santana shook her head and went back to changing stations.

"Oh, go back, that was Ke$ha," I said.

"No way, you can pick the songs when you're driving," Santana scowled. She wasn't in a very good mood, so I didn't argue with her. She kept going until she stopped on a song that made her lips curl into a small smile of content.

"Hey, I know this," I grinned. Santana's smile grew a little bigger and she turned the volume up.

"-let you go-oh-oh," she sang. "Hey mami, damelo otra vez. Da-da-da-damelo otra vez." Santana let her hand tap against the steering wheel, and I sat up in my seat a little bit as she started the car up again.

"Suavemente, besame," Santana sang out and glanced to me as she pulled the car back onto the highway. "I'll make you do whatever if you take me away." She winked at me, and I felt my smile widen. She lifted her hand off the steering wheel as I tried to sing the repeated verse along with her. She shook her head when I got the Spanish wrong, but swirled her hand in the air to gesture for me to try again when the verse repeated again. She was smiling now.

"Tell me you want it," I sang. I knew this part, because it was in English. "So I can get it. Let's be honest, you are the finest." I lifted my hand in the air and pointed at Santana as I wiggled my head back and forth. "Got you surrounded, baby surrender. Don't make me hunt you. I know you want to-"

"I wanna oh-oh-oh," Tina sang, leaning forward to join along. She pressed her cheek against Santana's shoulder, and Santana grinned at her. I felt myself relax a little, because they weren't mad at each other anymore. I hoped this time it lasted a little longer.

"Can't let you go-oh-oh," we sang together. Santana looked to me again as I tried to run through the Spanish.

"Hey mami, dame...otra..." I had a hard time following along the first time, but Santana gave me an encouraging look.

"Da-da-da-damelo otra vez," she nodded. The verse repeated again, and I managed to say it right the last time the line ran through before the chorus. She helped me and Tina through the chorus again, although we were pretty good at shouting 'Suavemente, besame!' When it came to Pitbull's part, I wiggled in my seat, all excited because I knew the English part of the rap.

"It's like deja vu, baby," I said, raising my hand up to my mouth.

"Dale," Santana said, wrinkling her nose.

"Mohombi. Nayer. Pitbull. Fire," I said, shuffling my hands back in forth in the air. "This is revolution in music and we cause riots. Yeah just try us," I said, tapping my chest with my hand. "Double domination, and everybody knows that me no liar. RedOne? Have them sent a one million year, and here's my wire."

"Armandito, tremenda gente. Negociante calle elegante y decente," Santana said, bobbing her head up and down. "Esta noche vamos hacer el amor, ya tu sabe bebita suavemente."

"I want you to lose your mind, lose control," we said in unison. Tina and Mike were just shuffling back and forth because I didn't think they knew the words at this point of the song. "What before, lose it now, 'cause I know we doing big. You gotta be ready to lose it all!"

"Suave," Santana winked at me. By the time the chorus finished its final verse and the song ended, we were all jumping around and flailing excitedly. It was too bad Mike was sitting in back, because I was pretty sure we could have come up with some really fun dance moves, even if we were jammed in a car. The next song came on the radio, and Santana beamed even brighter.

"Are we listening to a Spanish radio channel?" Tina asked loudly. I shrugged, and looked to Santana, but she was too busy tapping her hands against the steering wheel and shaking back and forth to the beat of the song. She smiled and turned to us and started singing along, but none of us knew the song nor could we understand it. I think that was why she was grinning so much.

"Can we listen to something else?" I giggled. "We can't understand this, Santana." I stretched forward and placed my hand on the dial, but she smacked my hand away.

"¡No quites mi música!" Santana said. I blinked and drew my hand back.

"Guess we can't sing along," Mike murmured in my ear. "But we can still dance."

"That's true!" I giggled. Although Tina, Mike, and I didn't know what the song was about, we mimicked Santana's head bobs and swayed to the beat. It was a really bubbly song. By the end of it, Tina and Mike and I were shouting out random words we managed to pick up - mostly just 'cabeza' and 'oy-oy-oy' although we were pretty sure that was just a sound, not a word. Santana was laughing when the song came to a close and twisted the dial to turn the volume down.

"Me encanta verte bailar así, eres tan sexy…" Santana laughed, and shook her head at me. I giggled.

"Santana, I don't speak Spanish," I said.

"No puedo esperar a que estemos solas para enseñarte lo mucho que me ha gustado…" Santana said, arching her brow at me and winking. Her voice sounded velvety when she spoke, almost like a purr, and it made me gulp.

"I-I think the radio broke her," I stammered. "Santana, speak English!"

"Ahahaha," Santana started laughing again, raising her free hand to brush her hair back out of her face as she shook her head. "Sorry, sorry."

"Don't do that!" I said, shoving her arm playfully.

"Mm, but if I speak Spanish, you won't know what I'm saying," she smiled. "And then you can't call me out for swearing."

"You swore?" I accused.

"Who knows?" She winked.

"I think that in itself deserves a Britt-Kiss," Tina frowned. Santana laughed.

"Too bad, I'm driving," Santana grinned.

"When we switch, then," I said. Her smile fell a little, but she shrugged.

Santana kept driving for a while and she switched to an English station. Tina suggested we play a car game, but Santana refused venomously. We decided to ignore Santana and play a game anyway, where you had to make up a rap based on a sign we passed. We were taking turns, and eventually coaxed Santana into trying.

"Oh, oh, there!" I said, pointing to a billboard. It was a McDonald's sign that said '$1 size fits all.'

"One dollar, one size," Santana said, trying to start a beat. "You be tryin' to surmise - that you pay just one dollar for some mickey-d fries. You ain't got no change in your pocket? Then just go take off like a rocket. This isn't a starbucks, you ain't gotta order a tall. The prices are de-luxe, with one size fits all."

We all cheered and she blushed.

"Oh god, no, that was fucking awful," she groaned. "Just terrible. I'm so god damn sorry I had to subject you to that terrible fucking mess. I don't even _like_ McDonalds."

"That was a lot of Britt-Kisses," Mike said, sitting back. Santana's eyes widened.

"No! Come on! None of you have sworn this whole trip!"

"Damn it," I shrugged.

"That's not fair! Brittany gets to swear?" Santana cried. "This is bullshit- Fuck! No! Damn it-! AUGH!"

"Seven total," I said, holding up my fingers. "That's a lot."

Santana pressed her lips together and held her breath for a moment before exhaling sharply through her nose.

"How about we make a deal?" Tina said, leaning forward. "Instead of seven Britt-Kisses, you two just-"

"Zzt-" Santana held her hand up. "I'm not making a deal with you."

"You haven't even heard what I had to say," Tina laughed.

"You were gonna say make out," I said. Tina blinked.

"Exactly," Santana rolled her eyes. Santana turned the volume up on the radio again. She kept driving for a really long time - longer than anyone else had so far. I think she was trying to avoid having to pay her Britt-Kiss debt.

* * *

><p>"Santana, come on. Pull over," I insisted. She looked really tired, but we still had a while to go.<p>

"No, Britt, I'm fine," she mumbled. I glanced back. Tina was asleep with her head resting in Mike's lap. He was passed out too, using Jeremy as a pillow and leaning up against the side of the door. I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. She whole body jolted as she inhaled sleepily.

"Please?" I asked quietly. She glanced at me and then nodded slowly.

"Yeah, okay," Santana said softly, pressing her foot to the brake to slow the car down. She took the next exit that had a rest stop at it. Once we were parked, we both unbuckled and I got out before she did. I was already over to her side of the car as she stepped out. Her movements were really slow, and it was obvious her body was showing signs of fatigue.

"Hey," I caught her hand as she stumbled past me. She twisted around slowly and looked up at me.

"Hm?"

"Are you mad?" I asked.

"N...No, Britt, I'm just tired," Santana said quietly. I stepped towards her and pulled her into a hug. She fell forward into my arms and buried her face into my neck.

"I'm sorry about the Britt-Kisses," I said. "I just wanted to have an excuse to kiss you."

"Britt, it s'okay," Santana mumbled sleepily. "I'm not mad about the kisses."

"But you are mad," I said. She turned her head a little and sighed.

"I'm just so _frustrated,_ Britt," she murmured.

"Cause of Tina? I thought you two got along," I said, stepping back. She stepped towards me and lowered her head to look at the ground.

"Brittany, _you_ are making me frustrated," she whispered. My brow furrowed. What did I do to make Santana mad at me? If it wasn't because of the Britt-Kisses, what could it be? Was it because I teased her? Or because we played car games? Or I had insisted on bringing Jeremy before? Maybe she just brought Jeremy along because she hadn't wanted me to be upset about not having him.

"Brittany, I'm not frustrated _at _you," Santana said, interrupting my thoughts. I looked back at her and she smiled lightly. "It's the same as your...kinesiology midterm, babe. Except I have to sit here enduring this long ass car ride and you're literally torturing me with kisses."

"S-Santana... I'm sorry," I mumbled. She shook her head and let out a weird, sort of strangled laugh.

"It's fine, just, just don't let me swear anymore, okay?"

I felt so terrible. We hadn't really _done_ anything since the day we studied for the midterm. Yesterday had been close, when Santana dragged me up to her room before the party, but there wasn't enough time to do anything without it being suspicious. If she'd been like this since yesterday, or even longer, then all I had been doing the past few days was tormenting her.

"Just get in the car, okay?" Santana said, pulling away. I held fast to her hand and pulled her closer, pressing my lips gently to hers. She held there, frozen in my grasp. I let my hand slip out of her hand and placed it on the side of her face. I kissed her nose, and then her cheek. Then her other cheek and her forehead. I held there for a second and let my lips trail down the bridge of her nose, before planting my lips softly on hers again. I pulled back and then kissed her one last time.

"Seven kisses," I said quietly. I knew soft and slow was safe for Santana. It made me feel calm when she kissed me or touched me slowly and gently. Her eyes fluttered open as she wobbled. Luckily, I was still holding on to one of her hands, so she didn't topple over.

"Better?" I asked quietly.

"Mm," she hummed. "Sorry."

"You don't have to be, it was my fault," I said. "C'mon, get some sleep. We've only got a few more hours to go."

"Do you know where you're going?" Santana asked after I helped her into the passenger side and looped around into the driver's seat.

"Yeah, I think so," I said. She leaned over and buckled herself in and then looked up at me.

"No, you don't," Santana shook her head. "You need a navigator."

"It's fine, just sleep," I said, turning the car back on.

"Once you get back onto I-95 south, you're going to keep going until," Santana stopped and grabbed my arm. "Listen, okay? Until exit 46-A and B, okay? It'll say Elizabethtown on the sign."

"Okay, Santana," I nodded. Her hand slipped down my arm and onto my wrist and she squeezed it gently.

"If I fall asleep, wake me up when you approach that exit, okay?"

"I promise. Get some rest," I smiled. Her hand slipped off of mine, but once I shifted gears and pulled out of the parking lot, I found it again and held it lightly in mine.

"Do you want me to get Jeremy?" I asked, glancing back. Tina and Mike were still passed out. I think I could have gotten Jeremy unsquashed from beneath Mike's head if I tried hard enough. I'd have to pull over again, but I didn't mind.

"I'm fine," Santana said, wiggling her hand in mine.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This chapter was a lot more fun to write than the last one. I think I just like writing Santana being goofy. **

**WHEN ARE THEY GOING TO GET CAUGHT? HOW? WHO ALL KNOWS? **

**Songs are: **

**Drive By by Train - .com/watch?v=oxqnFJ3lp5k&ob=av2e**

**Suavemente by Nayer ft. Pitbul & Mohombi - .com/watch?v=d19eBjpP2Aw**

**Danza Kuduro by Don Omar ft. Lucenzo - .com/watch?v=7zp1TbLFPp8&ob=av2e **

**Santana's spanish (I asked for help this time):**

**_¡No quites mi música!_ - Don't touch my music!**

**_Me encanta verte bailar así, eres tan sexy…_ - I love seeing you dance like this, you look so sexy…**

**_No puedo esperar a que estemos solas para enseñarte lo mucho que me ha gustado…_ - I can't wait until we are alone so I can show you how much I've liked it…**


	24. Like Tike

"I knew we shouldn't have left the room reservations to Tina and Mike," Santana grumbled as I shut the door to our hotel room.

"It's not so bad," I said, looking around the room. It was actually a really nice hotel room. I was expecting something like a holiday inn, to be honest, but I was surprised at how modern and stylish everything looked. "And it would have been suspicious if you asked for a single bed."

"Yeah, but..." Santana's shoulders drooped as shedragged the suitcase across the carpet and dropped it at the foot of one of the double beds. "When else do you get the opportunity to get a king size bed?"

I stepped over the suitcase, dropping Jeremy on top of it and then wrapped my arms around Santana to pull her into a hug. She was pouting, so pressed my lips to her forehead. She sighed and leaned into me.

"Are you really upset about the room arrangements?" I giggled. "It's not like I'm going to sleep in the other bed."

"Nope, you're sleeping right here," she said, hugging me closer. I smiled and tucked in my chin and turned my head a little to kiss her, but froze when there was a knock at the door.

"...seriously?" Santana groaned the moment our lips parted. She stepped away from me as I turned and hopped over the suitcase. I heard her slump onto one of the beds as I opened the door.

"Hey," Tina pushed her way into the room. "Mike and I are exhausted from that car ride...we're gonna go to bed." She stopped when she was between Santana and I. "Is your room okay?"

"It's great," I said.

"Alright. I checked, and room service is still available, so if you're hungry," Tina nodded.

"Awesome. When are we doing stuff tomorrow?" I asked.

"I say we sleep in and hit the beach whenever we're feeling up to it," Tina shrugged. She leaned forward and looked at Santana. She was laying back on the bed, motionless. "Does that sound okay, Santana?"

"Nghh," Santana groaned, lifting her hand weakly and giving Tina an unenthusiastic thumbs up.

"Right, okay then," Tina rolled her eyes. "The cleaning services come in at 8am - if you don't plan on being awake then, put up the sign on the door. Mike and I don't have any plans to wake up before noon." Tina turned and opened the door.

"Ugh, that car ride was awful - I don't know how you stayed awake the whole time, Brittany," Tina said as she left. I caught the door before it closed and slipped the sign to the outside of the door for the cleaning services people. I felt myself smirk as I made sure to lock the chain lock. I spun around, sneaking back to the bed quickly. When I was close enough to hop over the suitcase, I saw Santana had her eyes closed and her arm was sprawled above her head. I felt myself slump a little, but I smiled. I think she was asleep.

"Poor Santana," I murmured as I sat down next to her and leaned in to kiss her forehead. Just as I was about to press my lips against her brow, she tilted her head up and snatched my lips in hers. Her arm above her head shot up and wrapped around my neck to pull me closer. I giggled against her as she twisted and rolled me onto my back.

"S-santana," I laughed when she pulled back to smile at me. "I thought you were sleeping."

"Why would I be sleeping when I have something better than my dreams right here?" Santana said, wrinkling her nose. I flushed. She lowered her lips to mine before I had a chance to say anything. I turned my head to the side a little and wrapped my arms around her neck, pushing up against her lips to deepen her kiss. God, kissing Santana was always good and special, but it also just felt so _different_. I'd kissed lots of people, but she could make me feel like kissing her was more important than air.

"Aren't you..." Santana said, pressing her forehead to mine. "...tired, Britt?"

"Mm-mm," I shook my head and let my hand slide back from around her neck to her cheek and pulled her lips back to mine. She was so soft and warm and I liked when her body was pressed against mine. I wondered if she'd been craving exactly this the whole car ride.

"Wait," Santana said, tearing away from my lips. She stared down at me and narrowed her eyes.

"What's wrong?" I frowned, wiggling a little underneath her to try to sit up.

"You locked the door?" she asked, arching a brow. She twisted her head around and scanned the room.

"Yes," I giggled, lifting my hand to try to pull her back towards me. She just sat up further.

"And the sign is on the door?"

"Mm," I nodded.

"And Jeremy...?" Santana looked down at the suitcase. I sat up and peered over her shoulder and saw that he was facing us. She scrambled off me and picked him up, quickly unzipping the suitcase and shoving him inside.

"What are you doing?" I giggled.

"I don't want him perving on us," Santana said and chuckled lightly. She lifted her hand to brush her hair back as she turned to face me.

"...you good?" I asked, lifting my legs over the edge the bed after I'd kicked my shoes off. She nodded and crawled back onto the bed, removing her own shoes in the process.

"I swear, if there are any more interruptions-"

I cut her off by pulling her into me, tugging at her waist with such a force she nearly fell as I pressed my lips onto hers. Santana pushed her body back into me and let her hands slither up my sides and around my back. She licked and then bit my lip, and I exhaled sharply before aggressively meeting her tongue with mine. Her hands started to claw at the bottom of my shirt and I pushed her back into the puffy comforter beneath us. She groaned and twisted beneath me as I felt her attempt to gain control by rolling us over. I felt myself grin a little as I scratched my fingers underneath her NYU hoodie.

"Britt, shirt," she growled, tugging at my tank top.

"You're the one with the hoodie," I grumbled. She pulled my tank top over my head and then managed to flip me onto my back. I let out a little 'oof' when she did. She straddled me and pulled her hoodie off, tossing it somewhere on the floor. I wiggled underneath her and grinned when she dipped down to catch my lips again. She ran her hands up my stomach and only stopped when she pressed her palms against my breasts. I groaned.

"San-tan-ahh," I gasped when she squeezed her hands over my bra. I finally managed to grab a fist full of Santana's shirt and started to tug it up. She moved her hips into me as I pulled it up, forcing her to sit up a little and move her hands from me. The moment her shirt was off, I let my hands slide down her back, pulling her waist closer into me. She cupped my face with both hands, wrestling my tongue with hers as she pressed her hips down again.

"Britt!" Santana gasped when I dug my fingers into her ass and flipped us again. I pulled my hands out from under her and quickly fumbled with her zipper before yanking her jeans off. She wiggled up a little and then started to remove my pants as well. I smashed our lips together again as she struggled to tug them off me blindly. She rolled me over and our arms and legs tangled together. I don't think either of us was willing to let the other be on top. I kept trying to push her onto her back, but any time she found herself beneath me, she would flip me again. It got so bad we almost tumbled off the side of the bed.

"S-stop it," I panted, after catching her from the edge of the bed. I pulled her closer to me, and we were both laying on our sides. She giggled and gripped me tightly until I wiggled us back to the middle of the bed.

"I can't help it," she said, giving me a wet kiss. I loosened my grip on her to slide my hand down her back, along her waist, and down to her thigh. I pulled her leg up and over mine.

"This okay?" I asked during a pause between kisses. If neither of us could decide who should be on top or on bottom, I figured it was a decent compromise.

"Mm," she hummed and snuggled closer. I was enjoying the soft warmth of her bare skin against mine. I tickled my fingers back up her thigh and played with the band of her underwear.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I slipped her underwear off.

"Hm? For what, Britt?" Santana pulled her hands away from my face and started to remove my underwear.

"For...making you wait...so long," I panted. She grinned against my lips once my underwear was tossed somewhere with the rest of our clothes and then pressed her thigh between my legs. I couldn't help but let out a little grunt. Her hands wormed around my back and removed my bra.

"I get a whole week of you to myself," Santana said, kissing away from my lips and down my jaw. "I was just being impatient." I quickly did away with her bra as well, and we laid there, completely naked. She nibbled at my earlobe, and I felt myself shudder.

"I's okay..." I said as my eyes fluttered closed. I wrapped my hand around the small of her back and pressed my thigh hard against her. She let out a little gasp and then bit my neck. I winced, but continued to roll my hips into her. She stopped kissing me and rested her forehead in the crook of my neck as she matched my movements. I pulled back a little so that I could find her lips. Her hand slide down my arm and grabbed mine from around her waist to interlace our fingers.

I squeezed her hand as she pressed into me, full body, and I fell onto my back. I think if she hadn't been holding my hand and dragged it up above our heads, I would have complained. She pressed her knee against my thigh and I spread my legs a little as her free hand wandered down my stomach. I dragged my other hand from around her waist to her front, but held it still when a gasp was forced from my throat. She slid her fingers down between my legs, and I felt my hips rise instinctively to the touch.

"Santana," I moaned. I managed to move my hand down and cup her mound.

"_Fuck_, Brittany," she gasped, and I bit her neck. She winced.

"Britt-Kiss," I giggled. She leaned down and kissed me.

"That wasn't...a _kiss_," she said, sliding her fingers down and pressing gently down until she managed to slip two fingers inside me. I moaned loudly and tightened my grip on our intertwined hands. I felt her grind her hips against my hand, so I mimicked her and gently glided my fingers between her folds. She was really wet and slippery.

"B-britt-any," Santana said between shuddered gasps. She was barely able to hold herself up with her knees as she rocked against my hand. I tried my best to focus on making her feel good, but she started to move her fingers in and out too. I felt myself squirming beneath her. She moaned and pressed more weight against me. Her chest fell into mine and I found her lips again. She kept pressing leisurely kisses to my mouth, dipping her tongue against mine in this calm, soothing way that made me feel like the whole room was melting.

I wondered if she felt the same way.

"Mm!" Santana moaned into my mouth and I felt her shudder against my hand. She squeezed our conjoined hand and rocked harder, pressing her fingers into me with a little more force than before. It was enough to send me over my tipping point as well. My cry was muffled by her tongue and lips, and I could hardly keep from writhing beneath her. She slipped her hand out from between my legs to grip a bit of the comforter next to my shoulder. I pulled my hand away as well, and she broke from kissing me. I stared up at her and smiled weakly. Her hair was a mess and she looked a little flushed.

"You're so pretty," I said. My voice was low, and it came out as a little bit of a whisper. She smiled timidly and bent her head down as she pressed her stomach against mine and laid fully on top of me. She pressed her cheek to my chest and snuggled into me. I wrapped my arm around her. I liked so much how cute and shy she could be, even after exposing so much of herself to me.

"It's true," I said, untangling my hand from hers and brushing her hair out of her face. I strained to look down at her and she moved a bit to look back up at me. She responded by taking my hand in hers and kissing the palm of it. I giggled and she moved our hands to rest on the other side of my chest.

"Britt..." she mumbled quietly.

"Yeah?" I asked. She shook her head and nuzzled her face into my neck.

"Nothing," she mumbled.

"Are you sleepy?" I asked.

"No."

"Liar," I giggled. I wiggled up and pulled her with me. "C'mon, let's get under the covers, okay?"

"Mm." Santana curled up into me as I wiggled the comforter out from beneath us. She was cute and sleepy and clinging to me, so I didn't complain that she made it a million times more difficult to tug it from under us. I managed to cover us up and she sighed contently. I rested my cheek against her forehead and closed my eyes.

"We never ate dinner," she muttered. My eyes snapped open, but she didn't move, so I stayed still.

"Are you hungry?"

"No," she murmured. She pressed her lips to my neck, and I giggled.

"Go to sleep, silly," I said and squeezed my arm that was wrapped around her.

"M'kay..."

It didn't take long for her to doze off. I laid there awake for a while longer. I didn't know how I wasn't completely exhausted, since I hadn't really slept at all during the drive down. The whole room was quiet and still, except for the soft sounds of Santana breathing. I slipped my hand out from underneath hers and hugged her tighter. She murmured in her sleep and slid her hand from my chest up to my neck. I kind of wished we could just lay there forever and that morning wouldn't come.

* * *

><p>"Santana, just let me in." Tina was pounding on the door that conjoined our two rooms, and Santana and I were scrambling to put on our clothes. She giggled as she tossed me clean underwear and then continued to snap her bra on.<p>

"Jesus, will you hold on?" Santana snapped. She turned to me and her eyes widened.

"Britt, go in the bathroom," she said, grabbing a handful of my clothes and my makeup bag and shoving them in my arms.

"I'll hurry, hold on," I said. She pulled me towards the bathroom and I nearly tripped over the suitcase.

"Santana," I grumbled, but then I was tossed into the bathroom. I stared up at her, dumbfounded, but then she tapped her neck and gestured to the mirror before shutting the door.

"What?" I heard her shout. She must have opened the door. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw that my neck several dark marks along it. I gently dragged the pads of my fingers over them and shook my head. I could see myself starting to grin, and that only made me start to laugh. Santana had definitely added to her collection.

"-you took that much time to answer the door and you're not even dressed yet?" Tina said from outside the bathroom.

"I'm wearing pants," Santana said.

"Well, change, you should be wearing your bathing suit," Tina grumbled. "Brittany, are you in the bathroom?"

"Y-yes," I giggled as I opened a bottle of concealer. "Give me a second." I quickly covered the marks and turned to look at the pile of clothes Santana handed me. They were mostly hers.

"Shit," I grumbled, picking through the mess. I found my bathing suit top, but not the bottoms. Shrugging, I quickly put it on and then threw on a pair of Santana's shorts. Maybe Tina wouldn't notice. I threw the door open and Tina jumped back a little in surprise.

"At least Brittany remembered," Tina rolled her eyes and Santana stumbled past me. I caught her gaze and she looked down. I saw she had my bathing suit bottoms in her hand before she shoved them into my makeup bag. She passed me the rest of my things and then closed the door.

"Are we in a hurry?" I asked.

"No, I guess not," Tina said, raising her hand and scratching the back of her head. "It's just almost noon already and Mike and I are hungry."

The thought of food suddenly made me really hungry too. I guess none of us had eaten since yesterday.

"Can I use your bathroom, then?" I asked.

"Why?" Tina said. "You're already dressed."

"I forgot to brush my teeth," I said quickly. She shrugged. "Whatever, it'll probably take Santana another thirty minutes to get ready. Knock yourself out."

* * *

><p>Santana only took another twenty-six minutes to get ready. Mike drove us down to the beach after we got some lunch. It was kind of windy and it wasn't exactly hot out, so Santana and Tina refused to go in the water, no matter how much Mike and I pleaded.<p>

"You guys suck," I said, as Santana and Tina laid down their towels on top of the sand. "We drove all the way here and you're just going to lay in the sun?"

"Yep," Tina nodded. She and Santana smacked their palms together in a light high-five, and then Santana wiggled out of her shorts. I didn't realize I was staring until Mike tapped me.

"Britt, you coming?" he asked. I flushed and nodded. I wondered how many times he asked me. I saw Santana smirk at me out of the corner of my eye as I tugged off my - or rather - her shorts. I was really glad no one had noticed that.

"Have fun freezing your asses off," Santana called after us.

"Good luck becoming a toaster strudel," I shouted.

"That doesn't make any sense," Santana called back.

"Yes, it does." It totally did. Because toaster strudels were delicious.

"Race you," Mike shouted just as he kicked off the ground, sending sand flying as he tore for the water. I laughed and ran after him. It was so hard to run on the sand, and he had a lead on me. The moment he ran into the water, he recoiled.

"Oh, shit-!" He jumped back and scrambled back towards me. I ran into him and he caught me before I touched the water.

"It's freezing!" Mike warned. I wiggled out of his arms.

"Wimp!" I laughed, jumping forward until I was almost knee deep in the water. It was really cold, but I hadn't been to the beach in years. "It'll get warmer once you get used to it."

"Britt, it's too cold," Mike laughed.

"C'mon, Santana and Tina are already being lame," I pouted. "Please play with me?"

Mike crossed his arms over his chest and rose his brow.

"I'll cut you a deal," he said. "I get in the water with you, and you let me and Tina have a some free time tomorrow. Go off and get lost with Santana, okay?"

"Yes!" I grinned. That was an awesome idea. I liked Mike and Tina, of course, but if he was going to spend some alone time with Tina, that meant alone time for me with Santana. I dipped down and cupped my hands in the water and hoisted them back up to splash at Mike.

"Ah! That's cold!"

"Stop being a baby," I laughed, stretching forward and grabbing his arm to pull him into the water. Mike and I ended up swimming for a while. He kept picking me up and plunging me into the water. I was screaming and shouting most of the time, and after a while Tina came down to join us. Mike and I exchanged a look before grabbing Tina and forcing her head underwater. She shouted and splashed at us, but I waded away back to the shore.

"Santana," I said, sopping wet as I plopped down onto Tina's towel. "Why won't you join us?" She looked up from the book she had laying in front of her and smiled.

"Because it's cold. Britt, you've got sand all over you," she giggled and I looked down. I had missed the towel a little and had sand caked on the wet parts of my body that had pressed against the ground.

"Shoot," I spat as I sat up. "But it's so much fun. The water gets warmer, I promise."

"Liar, your lips are blue," Santana said.

"You could always warm them up," I said, leaning down closer to her and wrinkling my nose.

"Stop it," she swatted me with her book and laughed. "You're getting sand and water everywhere."

"I still look hot, though, right?" I grinned.

"Don't even," Santana held her hand up and turned back to her book. "I swear to God, I will jump you right here in front of everyone if you say another word."

"I don't mind," I laughed. Santana closed her book and sat up. She looked at me seriously, and for a moment, I actually thought she was going to pounce on me. Instead, she reached forward and grabbed my sandy hand and tugged me up.

"Alright, sandy pants, let's get in the water," she said.

* * *

><p>"AH! No!" I shouted. A huge wave knocked me backwards and I fell of my boogie board. Mike had gone to get a few, and we spent the last hour or so trying to ride the waves. I shot out of the water, gasping for breath as I slapped around the surface for my board. Thankfully I had the strap around my wrist and it wasn't too far away.<p>

"You okay?" Santana asked. She was laying on her own board and kicked the water to get closer to me. I stretched my arms over my board and floated towards her.

"Yeah," I coughed. "Just a little water logged." That was a thing, right? Maybe that was just when your ears got full of water. Maybe I was just really tired.

"Your lips are blue again," Santana giggled.

"You're always welcome to fix that," I winked. Santana's eyes widened and she glanced around. Along with Mike and Tina, we were the only ones this far out, but I think Mike and Tina are the people Santana was most concerned about. She lifted her hand off her board and pointed down into the water, arching her brow at me as her lips curled into a smirk. I grinned and nodded.

"Wipe out," she said, as she kicked against the water towards the next big wave. I turned and headed after her. I didn't even try to stay on my board when the wave crashed into us.

I opened my eyes quickly once we were submerged. Luckily, it was salt water, because it didn't sting so much. I looked and spun around to try to find Santana. I barely had time for my vision to adjust when she appeared out of nowhere and pressed her lips against mine. I tried to pull my arm forward to wrap it around her neck, but it was the arm attached to my boogie board and I couldn't move it well in the water. My legs started to float upward and I curled into her, using my other hand to pull her towards me.

A few bubbles started to escape from my nose and I knew we didn't really have enough time to keep kissing. I felt her lips press a little harder against mine just before she pushed away and swam to the surface. I followed after, gasping for air the moment I could.

"I thought I was going to die," Santana laughed. I smiled weakly as I grabbed onto my board and crawled my upper body onto it.

"That was a hell of a wipe out," Mike laughed, wading up to us. "You guys okay?"

"Tired!" I gasped, placing my cheek to the board.

"Yeah, I'm done. Too cold," Santana shook her head.

We all waded out back towards the shore until it was shallow enough to start walking again. Tina was hugging around Mike for warmth, and I felt my teeth chattering. Santana came over and wrapped her arm around my shoulders and hugged me close.

"I knew you were cold," Santana said softly.

"I've been in and out of the w-w-water," I shivered.

"Oh my gosh, Brittany," Tina suddenly spat. I froze against Santana and we both looked to Tina. She let go of Mike and splashed over. "What happened?" Her hand rose and brushed back my wet hair and I felt my eyes widen. Shit. I slapped my hand to my neck.

"-lemme see," Santana said, pulling me around. She peeled my hand away and gasped. I wasn't sure why she was surprised. She was the one who put the hickeys there. I realized she wasn't looking at my neck, but instead had her eyes wide and was staring at me. She looked lost and pleading.

"Jellyfish," I spat. I touched my neck again and hissed, pretending to sound like it hurt. "I think one stung me."

"A jellyfish?" Tina asked, pulling my hand away from my neck and taking a closer look at the hickeys.

"They're native to this area, that's not surprising," Mike said. "How bad is it?"

"They look more like-" Tina started as she tapped one gently.

"-owowow!" I winced, feigning pain. I stumbled into Santana for dramatic effect.

"Definitely jellyfish stings," Santana nodded.

"What do we do?" Tina said, her brow knitting together. I wasn't sure if she was convinced yet, but the concern was evident in her voice.

"I saw on tv you're supposed to pee on it," Mike said, bowing his head and looking away sheepishly.

"It's not that bad," Santana said. "It was probably just a little jelly fish. Look, they're small."

"I'd rather be safe than sorry," Tina said. "Aren't they poisonous or whatever?"

"I can't pee on myself," I spat, huddling into Santana. We had really dug ourselves into a hole with this one.

"Well, then one of us will have to," Tina laughed weakly. "I nominate Santana."

"What? Why me?" Santana said, jerking away from me and raising her hands defensively.

"You seem to know the most about jellyfish," Tina shrugged.

"No, I don't," Santana said angrily. "Mike said they were common to this area and that you're supposed to pee on it."

"Alright," Tina said, twisting to look at Mike. "He has better aim anyway."

"No!" Santana and I both cried.

"I'm fine! Don't pee on me!" I shouted and made a run for it. Santana laughed and chased after me.

"Come back here," Tina shouted. "Brittany, what if you die?"

"I'd rather die than be peed on!" I screamed.

"SO GROSS!" Santana yelled.

We'd managed to persuade Tina to let Santana get a first aid kit from the life guard. When she came back, she said the lifeguard told her that dabbing vinegar over the 'stings' would help release the 'venom' and I'd be fine. She reassured Tina by explaining that the salt water itself had probably washed it out, but was being 'safe' by putting a vinegar soaked cloth to my neck.

"Maybe we should have asked the lifeguard for assistance," Mike said, scratching his head.

"I'm fine," I said quietly. "I know first aid, remember? Santana's right, the vinegar and salt water will have helped. It doesn't hurt that bad."

"I swear they look like hickeys," Tina shook her head.

"Where would she have gotten them from?" Mike laughed. "They weren't there before we got to the beach. So unless a fish jumped up and sucked on her neck, it must have been a jellyfish."

Tina still looked skeptical, but she didn't say anything else. I exchanged a glance with Santana as she held the vinegar cloth to my neck. That had been a really close call. Santana finished 'cleaning' the hickeys and tossed the towel into the first aid kit.

"Better?" she asked sweetly. I nodded.

"Alright, let's get washed off, dried, and changed," Santana said, tugging me up off her towel. "I'm done with this beach business."

* * *

><p>"Oh my gosh, it's adorable," Tina said, poking at the exterior glass of a tank in the gift store. We had gone up to the boardwalk and started window shopping. I didn't know gift shops sold animals, but apparently hermit crabs and lizards and turtles were readily available for tourists.<p>

"It is really cute," Mike said leaning down to look at the turtle in the tank. Santana and I were standing next to the hermit crabs, because I'd asked her if it was okay that their shells had glitter glue on them. Was that where glitter glue came from?

"-they put the decoration on, it's not something that happens naturally. Otherwise, you wouldn't get smiley faces or hearts on their shells," Santana said and I looked back up at her. "Hermit crabs migrate from shell to shell as they get bigger."

"So it's like clothes?"

"It's like a mobile home," Santana laughed. "But sure, kind of like clothes."

"Mike, can I please get one?" Tina pleaded. We both looked back to Mike and Tina. She was hopping up and down excitedly, grabbing both his hands in hers, looking up pleadingly at him. He smiled sheepishly.

"Tina, it wouldn't last the car ride home," Mike said softly. Tina's expression fell immediately.

"But we'll just make stops and make sure he has water and-"

"We can go to a pet store at home," Mike smiled. "You can pick any turtle you want."

Tina was immediately ecstatic again. She shrieked happily and wrapped her arms around Mike to give him a kiss. He held her up and pulled her into the kiss and spun her around. I smiled and glanced at Santana. She was smiling at them too. My expression dropped a little as I stood up. I had to try so hard not to grab Santana's hand. I wanted to make her excited enough for her to disregard anyone else in the room and just kiss me whenever she felt like it.

"Hey," Santana nudged me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked up at her and smiled.

"Did you want a hermit crab?" Santana asked quietly.

"No," I said, forcing a laugh. "Even if it survived the ride home, I'd probably kill it."

"I'd remember to feed it for you," Santana said, nudging me with her elbow as she stepped forward. I saw that Tina and Mike were walking towards the exit, so I followed Santana.

"They're perfect for each other," I whispered to Santana, observing how Tina was all smiles now and holding Mike's hand in hers as they walked.

"-yes, definitely. Boardwalk fries? So good-" Mike's eyes were wide and he looked insanely happy. Both of them did.

"They've been dating forever," Santana said, bumping into me again. Her eyes flicked up at me as she smiled.

"Since high school?" I asked.

"Yeah, a little bit," Santana shrugged. "They broke up for about a year though."

"Why?" I immediately jerked my head back to them.

"It was a mutual decision," Santana said. "Maybe not at first, but, yeah. Tina is a year younger than Mike - when he graduated, he didn't want to make her stay in a long distance relationship with him. He just wanted her to be happy."

"That's sweet," I said, shuffling my feet against the wooden planks of the boardwalk.

"She was miserable," Santana said quietly. "I don't think Mike realized that Tina needed him to stick with her - she lost us too when we graduated."

"Oh?" I looked up at Santana.

"I honestly don't know how she managed to get through that year," Santana said. "I was kind of a terrible friend to her."

"You're not a terrible friend, Santana," I said. "I'm sure you did your best."

"No, I didn't," Santana sighed. "I didn't call or visit or even write on her Facebook wall."

"What happened, happened, Santana," I shrugged. "You don't need to beat yourself up about it." She smiled weakly and looped her arm in mine.

"Yeah, you're right. I think that's their philosophy," Santana said, nodding up at Mike and Tina. "They hardly mention it. It's like it never happened."

"They probably just put it behind them," I smiled. "There are bigger and brighter things to look forward to, now that they have each other, right?"

Santana stopped and turned her head to look at me fully. Her smile widened so much that her nose crinkled for a second. I liked when she smiled like that. It made my heart flutter.

"Are you two coming?" Tina shouted. We looked up and saw the marginal distance that had built up between us. "We're getting Boardwalk fries!"

"Yes-" I started, but Santana pulled me sideways as I started walking again.

"Get us some, we'll be right there," Santana waved, and then gestured to the right. I followed her hand with my gaze and saw that she was pointing at this large machine next to a cramped looking arcade. It took me a second to realize it was a photo booth, and it wasn't until she dragged me inside that it clicked in my head why. The moment she pulled me behind the curtain, her lips were on mine. I giggled and leaned into her, fidgeting to find a comfortable position in the booth.

"You're adorable," she said, grabbing either side of my face with her hands as she pulled back from the kiss. I leaned forward to kiss her again, but she started giggling and tilted her head up. Even though I missed her lips, I didn't let it deter me from starting to kiss her neck.

"Okay, no, I did actually want to take pictures with you," she laughed.

"Wanky," I murmured, sliding my tongue up her neck to just below her ear. She tasted like salt from all the swimming we did.

"God, no, not those kind of pictures," she giggled. "Stop it, c'mon, serious." It took all the strength in my body to pull away from her neck. I leaned in and pressed my lips lightly to hers and then sat back.

"Fine, okay," I nodded. She patted my knee and then turned to the control panel of the booth. She had pulled out a dollar from her bag and was looking around for a place to insert it.

"How the _fuck_ does this thing work?"

"Britt-Kiss," I said, pressing my shoulder to hers and resting my head on her shoulder. I looked up at her expectantly.

"You're no help," Santana laughed.

"I will be, if you kiss me," I grinned. She rolled her eyes and shrugged me off.

"I just did," she said in protest. I puffed out my lower lip and batted my eyes. She let out a soft sigh and turned to me again before lowering her lips to mine. I sighed contently and she brushed my hair back out of my face when she pulled away.

"No more, okay? We don't need another _jellyfish_ stinging you," Santana winked. I sat up straight and then took the dollar from Santana and slid it into the machine. It took us a second to figure out how to get the machine to work, but we managed to figure it out.

"We only get four," Santana said, scooting back and pointing at us in the mirror. She pulled her hand back and brushed her hand through her damp hair. I shuffled closer to her and smiled as the first flash went off. She looked at me and smiled, and I stared back at her. I leaned forward and pressed our foreheads together just a little bit and the second flash went off.

"Okay, next let's do a funny one," she said. She stared back at the camera and opened her mouth in an 'oh' and held her hand up as she pretended to gasp. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to her cheek before she could protest. The flash went off and snapped the picture.

"Britt-" she said, smacking her hand down on my thigh, but then I caught her lips and she quieted. Her hand slid along my back as she pulled herself up and into me further, and we were too distracted kissing to notice the last flash. She pushed me back, pressing her lips harder against mine until my back hit the side of the booth. I let go of her to catch myself and my hand grazed the curtain as I wavered. I snatched a handful of it to hold pull myself up, but then she pulled away.

"God, we're going to get caught," Santana giggled, helping me sit up. We were both laughing as she leaned forward to grab the photos.

"Shit, we have to take another set, or Tina and Mike will get suspicious," she said, handing me my copy. I liked the last two best. I wasn't sure which one was better. I delicately placed it in my bag and pulled out my wallet to grab a second dollar. It cost us about five dollars total to get pictures that weren't incriminating.

"What the hell is taking so long?" Tina said, pulling the curtain back. I was half sitting on Santana and hugging her tightly from our last picture, and we snapped up as Tina and Mike scooted into the booth with us. I shouted and Santana slapped at Tina as the final flash for our fourth - or rather twentieth - photo went off.

"Tina, you ruined it!" Santana cried.

"Get out, we can't all fit," I giggled. Santana ended up having to pull me completely onto her lap as Mike held Tina in his. They were holding half empty containers of boardwalk fries.

"Hey, you ate ours!" Santana complained.

"You guys took too long," Tina laughed. "C'mon, how does this work...? We want pictures too."

"Stop squirming!" I swatted Santana.

"I can't help it, your boney ass hurts," Santana said, grabbing my waist and pulling me closer to her. I lifted my arm and draped it over her shoulder.

"Britt-Kiss!" Mike and Tina shouted in unison.

"No!" Santana scowled.

"You have to," Tina said, flicking a French fry at her.

"Don't waste them! They're so good!" I said as Mike threw one at us. I caught it and popped it in my mouth.

"Let's just take pictures, god," Santana laughed, stretching forward and tapping the screen of the control panel. "Give me a dollar, someone. I'm out."

The four of us huddled to take our photos. Santana kept fidgeting and cursing about the cramped space. Mike and Tina yelled and threw more fries at us, insisting we had to Britt-Kiss, so the last photo, I grabbed Santana's face and kissed her. Hard. The photo turned out really funny, because Mike and Tina were laughing in shock, and French fries were flying everywhere. Santana was so red in the face as Mike and Tina shoved us out.

"Our turn," Mike said, giving me a wink. I wondered what that was about.

"We'll get more fries," I laughed, grabbing Santana's wrist and pulling her away. The curtain fell back and Santana stumbled into me, burying her face into my shoulder and giggling.

"Shit, they know," she laughed. I wasn't sure why, but when she pulled away, I saw that her eyes looked terrified. She was nervous laughing.

"They don't, come on, it's a joke," I smiled. "They fell for _jellyfish_."

"Ugh, I only hope," Santana said, stumbling away from the photo booth. "Come on, let's go get some fries. I'm starving."

* * *

><p>Santana, Mike, Tina, and I ended up stumbling on a beach party on our way home. There was a bonfire and everything. We didn't stay for long, but somehow ended up getting handed red plastic cups and caught up in a few dances. I didn't mind, because I got to dance with Santana. I knew Mike could dance, and I'd seen Tina at the club dance before, but the two of them together were really good. I wondered if Santana and I looked that good together.<p>

"Ahaha! Stop!" Santana laughed, stumbling out of the elevator. I was holding her waist and wiggling back and forth.

"-Good night! That tonight's gonna be a good, good niiiight!" I shouted. Tina and Mike sang the woo-hoo's after me and Santana spun around.

"Tonight's the night!" She said, raising her hand up.

"Let's live it up!" I said, falling back a little and pointing at her.

"I got my money," Tina said, lifting her hand to Mike's chin and wiggling her hand back and forth. He grinned and wrapped his arms around her as they waddled together out of the elevator.

"Let's spend it up!" he said in unison with her.

"Go out 'n smashin'," we sang together. "Like oh-my-gosh! Jump out that sofa- let's kick it...off-!"

Santana and I stopped singing when we noticed Mike and Tina had stopped. Tina had jumped up and started kissing him and he was trying to keep her steady as he stumbled backwards towards their hotel door.

"Oh god," Santana laughed. "Get it, get it, Mike!"

Mike peeked an eye open and glared at us, sticking his middle finger up quickly after he managed to swipe the card key to their room. He dragged Tina back as he opened the door, and Santana and I were nearly on the ground laughing.

"D-don't... forget... the door...sign," Santana managed to gasp as she slapped our own door with her palm. Their door opened again quickly and a hand appeared to fumble with the sign on the outside portion of the door handle. Santana lost it. She fell to her ass and started shaking violently from laughter, hugging her sides tightly. I stumbled over her and helped with the sign. The door slammed shut the moment it was on, and I grinned as I turned to help Santana up.

"Let's pretend we don't know exactly what they're doing in there right now," Santana shook her head as she caught her breath.

"The same thing we're gonna do?" I raised my brow and smirked at her. She laughed and fumbled with her bag. A second later, she pulled out her card key and unlocked our door. She held the door open for me and I smiled as I walked in. I was expecting her to tackle me the moment the door was closed, but instead she stepped forward and wrapped her hands around me into a tight hug. Her head was bowed and pressed to my chest, and for a moment, I thought she might start crying.

"What's wrong?" I asked, quickly pressing my hands to her back and squeezing her gently. She shook her head and just stayed there.

"I had fun today," she mumbled. I smiled and leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

"Me too," I smiled. "And now I have like a million photos of us."

Santana nuzzled into me and sighed quietly. I squeezed and hugged her as I lifted her up a little off the ground. She giggled and kissed my neck.

"You didn't drink that much, did you?" I asked softly as I swayed us back and forth. She leaned back a little and looked at me with her brow furrowed slightly.

"No, why?" she smiled.

"I just thought you were going to start crying," I teased. She shoved me playfully.

"I'm fine, I'm great," she shook her head. "I can't just hug you?"

"You can," I nodded and wrapped my arms around her again. She leaned up and kissed me. It was soft and tender, and not hurried or rushed like the moments we stole away together today. It made my eyes flutter closed. I was so glad that we didn't have a time limit on how long we could kiss or touch and that we didn't have to hide in a photo booth or underwater to do so. Not that those weren't extremely hot. They'd been huge turn ons. But it was nice to just have Santana in my arms and not worry about anything else. Like breathing. Wait, no, we still had to do that.

"Santana," I gasped, pulling away from her lips a little to catch my breath.

"Mm?" She hummed as she pressed against me again.

"I want to..." I said, drawing back a little. "To know all...I can...about you."

She pressed her lips back on mine and held there, running her hands up to hold against the back of my neck. After a while, she pulled away and I could hear her breathing softly as she kept our foreheads pressed together. I wanted to know everything about her, and be able to make her feel better when she was feeling sad, or just listen if she needed to talk. I wanted to be able to make her laugh at inside jokes only we knew about. If I could be the person that stuck with her no matter what and make sure she was never miserable, I didn't think I could ever be sad.

"Yeah?" she whispered. I nodded, and she giggled, because I moved against her forehead.

"Brittany, I want that," she murmured, kissing me softly. "But I like the idea of learning about you, too."

"Isn't that the same thing?" I dragged my fingers up her spine, eliciting a soft hum from Santana. Her thumbs moved in slow circles against my neck and she shook her head.

"It's about the journey," she mumbled. "Not the end result."

"I like that," I kissed her back. "I like that a lot."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So today, I created 'CAPPU' - the Creative Alliance of Pillow Pet Unicorns. I needed a secondary beta, and then I was offered art to go along with each chapter by Munkeyyy! (I nearly died) So I have a creative development team.**

**tinyurl(.)com / bsae4rs**

**I apologize for a) taking so long on a (in comparison to the last two) short chapter and b) that it's not a WHOLE lot of plot. I won't say more than that.**

**Songs are:**

**Skin by Rihanna - .com/watch?v=6kjaagQcYkc**

**I Gotta Feeling by The Blacked Eyed Peas - .com/watch?v=-zcOFN_VBVo**


	25. Falling

A slight buzzing sound was coming from the bedside table, and I snapped awake. A cascade of gold blocked my vision, and it took me a moment to realize I couldn't see because my hair was in my face. I lifted my hand up from around Santana and smacked around the flat top of the table until I found my phone. I flicked it open and brushed my hair back to look at the screen.

_You two get lost, alright? You promised. Tina and I are going out. Cya later. :) - Mike Chang_

My lip curled into a goofy smile and I closed my phone. I tossed it down next to the pillow beneath Santana's head and curled back into her. She murmured and her hand dragged along my bare back. Giggling a little, I nuzzled my nose against hers and softly kissed her. I felt her smile, so I knew she was awake. I pushed harder against her lips and she giggled.

"Stop it, I'm sleeping," Santana muttered contently against my lips and her hand squeezed at my waist and tugged me a little closer.

"Sleeping beauties don't talk," I murmured. "Or kiss back."

"They do when they get kissed by princes," Santana giggled.

"Or princesses," I smiled, running my tongue against her lips. She parted them and let me run my tongue over hers. Her hand moved up my spine to the base of my neck as she twisted beneath me a little to delve her own tongue past mine into my mouth. I hummed happily. I felt her legs squirm beneath me before she managed to struggle one free. She wrapped it around me, and then pressed her body into mine. I was happy to let her take charge, because all I wanted was to have her close to me.

I rolled over to my back and dragged my hands down to cup her butt. She pulled away from my lips and started to press quick, wet kisses along my jaw. I tried to kiss her cheek, but started giggling when she got to my earlobe.

"S-stop, you'll give me more hickeys," I laughed, digging my fingers into her ass. She took in a sharp breath as I felt her body stiffen. I relaxed my grip on her and she pressed a few more light kisses to my neck before laying her head down and snuggling close to me.

"I suppose it'd be hard to explain any new ones," Santana said. I felt her cheek tense against my shoulder, and I grinned, knowing she was smiling too.

"We could just avoid swimming and not wash off the concealer this time," I laughed.

"I like that plan," Santana said, attaching her lips to my neck again. I wriggled playfully and tickled my fingers up her back. Waking up naked with Santana in my arms was the best way to start a day.

* * *

><p>"Where are we going?" Santana laughed. I was pushing her down the boardwalk with my palms pressed flat against her back as she stumbled forward through the crowd. I wouldn't let her go into any shops.<p>

"You'll see, you'll see," I cheered.

"Are we even meeting Mike and Tina for lunch or what?" Santana said, spinning around and grabbing my arms to stop me. She was grinning brightly.

"You caught me," I shrugged. "Mike and Tina are on a date."

"Yeah?" Santana said shyly. I nodded and forced her to spin back around. I leaned closer to her as I pressed my hands to her back again.

"So are we," I whispered in her ear before twisting to smile at her. She was blushing.

"Okay, so where are you taking me?" Santana said sheepishly.

"It's a surprise!" I said, jumping forward and looping her arm in mine. I continued pulling her down the boardwalk. When we got nearer the end of the pier, Santana stopped short and yanked me back.

"No," she shook her head. I grinned at her and followed her gaze up to the huge ferris wheel that loomed over us.

"No," Santana repeated. My grin softened as I looked back at her. She was fidgeting nervously and when I let go of her arm, she started taking a few steps backwards. I snatched her and pulled her back towards me.

"Are you scared?" I asked. My brow knitted together as I looked down at her in concern.

"No, that's not, psh," she scoffed and waved her hand as best she could while I gripped her arms. "I just...it's so..." She looked up at me and her shoulders dropped. "Are you pouting?"

"What?" I said. I hadn't noticed, but I suppose I was a bit disappointed. I had thought I picked something really cool and interesting. It wasn't a trip to the aquarium or anything really fancy, but I really thought she would like to go onto the SkyWheel with me.

"We can go," Santana nodded her head. "It's fine, we can do it."

"Are you sure?" I said, letting her arms slip out of my grasp. She looked up at the wheel again and her brow crinkled, but she held a weak smile.

"Yeah," Santana murmured and linked her pinkie with mine. "...let's do it."

I grinned and pulled her towards the line. She was quiet and kept bumping nervously into me. I paid for our tickets and then hurriedly rushed her up to one of the blue tinted gondolas. It was like a spheroid cube. I gestured to the attendant that there were just two of us and quickly pulled Santana in. She scrambled close to me and looked nervously around the container as the attendant secured the door.

"I thought you said you weren't scared," I said softly and gently squeezed her pinkie in mine. She wiggled the rest of her hand into mine and grasped it tightly.

"I lied," Santana said, bringing her other hand to my arm and clinging to it.

"It's not going to spin really fast or anything," I laughed.

"It's just going to go really high," Santana said. Her voice was tiny.

"You're scared of heights? Why'd you agree to this?" I said, twisting a little to look at her. We started moving, and she jumped, scooting even closer to me.

"B-because it's okay," she said. Her hand had moved from my arm to around my waist as she buried her face into my shoulder. "You planned this. I didn't want to ruin it."

"I have more things planned," I smiled and wrapped my arm around her. "The ride is only twelve minutes long."

"Twelve?" Santana cried.

"I'm sorry," I murmured and pressed my lips against the top of her head. She was still clinging to me desperately, refusing to look around as we began to slowly rise higher.

"No, no, I'm okay," she nodded. "I'm fine. You're here, so it's fine."

I squeezed her hand and nuzzled her lightly with my nose. I held her close as our cabin rose up higher in the air. I strained my neck to look over her and out at the boardwalk. Santana must have peeked, because she let out a weird squeak and hid her face in my neck. The car jolted to a stop, and she jumped a little in my arms.

"Hey, it's okay, they just pause it a couple times as we get higher," I murmured, pressing my lips against her forehead again. She was so scared. "What can I do to make it better?" My voice sounded thin and a little strained when it came out. I'd picked a bad activity for our date. She mumbled something against my neck, but it was muffled and quiet.

"What?" I said, pulling back a little. She leaned up and smashed her lips against mine. My eyes widened a little, because we weren't exactly hidden - the container we were sitting in was transparent aside from being tinted blue. I didn't think anyone would be looking, but it wasn't like we were in a completely private place. I froze under her kiss and stared down at her. She had her brow furrowed and eyes clenched closed tightly. My shoulders relaxed and I closed my eyes. Screw it. She was terrified.

I started to return her kiss, hoping it would distract her enough to calm her down. After what felt like several minutes, she lightened up against me and sighed. She hadn't jumped or panicked when we started moving again. I had moved my hand to the back of her neck and was stroking it gently.

"C'mere," I said, pulling her back into a hug. She nestled her head under my chin, keeping her eyes down as she slowly opened them. She had pulled her hand out of mine and was dragging her fingers up and down my open palm lightly.

"If you're not too scared, the view is really pretty," I said, looking up and out in front of us. She shook her head and I chuckled.

"You don't have to," I said as the car jolted to a stop again. We were at the top of the ferris wheel. I think we had made one rotation already.

"...what do you see...?"

"Water," I said. "And the beach."

"Is it...scary?"

"Only if you look straight down," I said, leaning towards the side of the cabin and glancing down. It was a little daunting to see the ferris wheel itself. "But if you look straight out, you don't even notice."

"Okay," Santana shuffled impossibly closer to me. "I'm... I'm going to look."

"I'm right here," I said reassuringly. She nodded and gripped my hand again. She closed her eyes and rose her head up a little bit.

"V-very cool," she muttered.

"Your eyes are still closed," I said quietly. She smiled nervously and her brow pinched a little. Slowly, she opened them. She shut them again quickly, so I squeezed her hand. She nodded and opened her eyes again.

"...w-wow," she exhaled. Her breath was a bit staggered.

"Pretty, right?" I smiled.

"Mm," she nodded slowly. "It actually is."

"Do you want to close your eyes again?" I asked. She shook her head.

"No, I'm okay."

The wheel started to turn again and we began to lower backwards. I thought she would get scared again because we had a clear view of the inner mechanisms of the ferris wheel, but she just squeezed my hand. We had one more rotation to go, and she was silent the whole time it took for us to get back to the top.

"We should take a picture," she muttered quietly after we stopped at the top again.

"Are you sure?"

"Y-yeah, it's so pretty. It would be a waste not to," Santana said. "Just don't move too much, okay?"

"Okay, but we should move to the other side of the cart if you want a view of the water," I said. She tensed against me but I slowly rose up and squeezed her hand.

"Slow and steady, we can do it," I smiled. She nodded and carefully we both shifted to the other side of the cabin. I had to fish her phone out of her purse because she was a little frozen again.

"Can you smile?" I giggled as I held out her phone. She shook her head and I looked down at her. She pressed her lips against mine and looked up at the phone. I smiled into her kiss and looked up for her camera. She stretched her hand up and pressed the button on the side to take the photo.

"That wasn't so bad, huh?" I laughed as I brought her phone down to my lap.

"I'm not scared," she grinned. It was momentary, because a second later, the car jolted as we began to move and she squealed and flung her arms around me. I smiled and placed my hand over the one she had attached to my shoulder. She started laughing.

"God, I'm so embarrassing."

"But you're so cute," I said, nuzzling my nose at her. She wrinkled hers and wiggled it against mine. A few moments later, the cabin came to a stop and she sat up a little. The attendant helped us up and out of the car and Santana did a little twirl once her feet hit the ground.

"Oh thank God," she said, stumbling into me. I laughed and wrapped my arm around her shoulder to help steady her. She rested her head on my shoulder as we walked towards the stairs down from the ferris wheel platform.

"Thank you for being brave," I said.

"Thank you for helping me be brave." Santana smiled up at me and then pulled away to loop her arm in mine. "Where to next?"

"It's a surprise!" I grinned.

"I swear, if it's bungee jumping or skydiving, I'm going to kill you."

* * *

><p>"Okay, what the hell," Santana said. I spun around and smiled at her.<p>

"How on earth did you know my favorite restaurant is _Breadstix_?" Santana looked stunned. I stepped forward and looped my arm in hers to pull her forward.

"I have my ways," I winked. She arched her brow at me.

"I asked Mike while you were showering this morning," I said. "Texted, rather."

"You asked Mike?" Santana said, pulling us to a halt just as I started to open the door.

"Yeah, he told me to 'get lost' because he wanted to take Tina on a date," I shrugged. "So I said 'I don't know, I don't think I can keep Santana entertained for that long' and I asked him if there was anything we could do to keep you occupied."

"Oh," Santana said, relaxing a little. "His first suggestion was Breadstix?"

"No, he suggested some touristy things first," I waved my hand. "And then some really random things like a baseball game or a movie." I slipped my hand out from her arm and opened the second door and held it for her.

"Thanks," she smiled and stepped up to the host counter. I hopped forward and smiled brightly at the host and asked about reservations I'd made. He nodded and helped us to a booth in the back of the restaurant.

"So, I bet you can't guess what my order is," Santana winked.

"Drink or food?" I said, opening my menu up.

"Both," Santana said, folding her hands over her menu, not even touching it. I bit my lip. She wasn't going to make this easy for me.

"Okay," I flipped the menu over looking for the drink menu. Why did every restaurant put it in different places?

"Right here, Britt," Santana said, pointing to the bottom corner on the back.

"Alcoholic or non?"

"Non," Santana said. I looked down at the menu again and furrowed my brow. There were way more options than I thought. I always just got Sprite because it was easy. I had a feeling Santana had a specific drink in mind and not just soda.

"Lemonade?" I asked, looking up at her. She wrinkled her nose as she smiled and shook her head.

"Try again?"

"Do you like tea?" I gazed down at the list of different types of tea listed on the menu.

"Getting warmer," Santana laughed.

"Raspberry?" I asked.

"Warmer."

"Uh," I looked back down. "Peach?"

"Put it together," Santana said and leaned forward as she dragged her index fingers together in the air. "Peach Raspberry tea, please," she said, looking up at the waiter. I snapped up. I hadn't even noticed he had appeared. She'd spoken before he introduced himself.

"Make that two," I grinned. "Oh, and can I get a kids menu? With crayons?"

The waiter smiled and gave me a nod before heading off in the opposite direction. Santana narrowed her eyes at me and her brow wrinkled. I would have thought she was judging me, but she had a small smile on her lips that read more as curiosity than evaluation.

"...I like to doodle," I said sheepishly.

"Fair enough," Santana said, leaning back. "You still have to guess my food order."

"You're not one of those girls that only orders salads, are you?" I wrinkled my nose.

"Ew, no," Santana said, scooting towards the table again. "Have you ever seen me eat a salad?"

"...you actually don't eat a lot of healthy foods," I shook my head. "I take it back."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Santana said, swatting at my menu defensively.

"Nothing," I grinned. "Chicken?"

"Nope," she shook her head.

"Pasta then," I said, raising a brow. She smiled. "Okay...my favorite is just spaghetti and meatballs, but you don't seem like that's your thing." She shook her head. "Hmm..."

"Here you go, ladies," the waiter said as he set our drinks down in front of us, followed by a bowl of breadsticks. "And your breadstix." He smiled and handed me a paper kids menu and then paused a moment to grab a handful of crayons out of his apron pocket. "Ready to order?"

"Yep," I said confidently. Santana arched her brow at me and leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest with a smirk on her face.

"Spaghetti and meatballs for me and..." I paused dramatically. "Fettuccine Alfredo for her."

"How did you know?" Santana spat as she shot forward, smacking her palms against the table. The waiter laughed as he scribbled down our order.

"Wait, can we get the shrimp appetizer?" Santana said, looking up at me. I puffed out my lower lip a little and shrugged into a nod.

"Sounds good," I smiled.

"Anything else?" He waited for us and we shook our heads. "Alright, I'll be back soon with your food."

"How did you know?" Santana repeated as he walked away. "Did you call them?"

"How would they know your order?" I laughed.

"This is my _favorite_ restaurant, you don't even," Santana said, waving her hand in the air as she shook her head. "I ownz this place back home. I'm sure if you told the manager _Santana Lopez_ was coming, they would have had my food ready for me the moment I sat down."

I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. She sounded and looked really serious, but what she was _saying_ sounded ludicrous. She grabbed a breadstick out of the bowl and broke it in half.

"Seriously, tell me," Santana said as she handed me the other half of her breadstick. I think it was a peace offering, because she seemed to have settled down.

"I just guessed," I grinned and took a bite of bread. "This is good."

"It's _fucking_ amazing," Santana said. She stretched forward and grabbed one of my crayons.

"Hey," I said, grabbing at her hand, but she pulled it away as she flipped open the kids menu.

"My turn to guess something about you," Santana said, flipping the page. She seemed satisfied by it as she started to lightly scribble-color in a goofy looking hippopotamus. I noticed she was coloring it purple.

"Okay," I smiled. "What's my favorite TV show? I know yours."

"Oh, tough call," Santana said, pausing to look up at me. She narrowed her eyes and I sat up a little straighter, smiling.

"One Tree Hill," she said, lowering her gaze back to the cartoon hippo.

"What! How? Are you psychic?" I spat.

"'I don't want to be anything other than what I've been trying to be lately'," Santana sang quietly as she drew a horn on the hippo's head and was adding a fluffy mane. She smiled as she looked up at me. "'All I have to do is think of me and I have peace of mind.' -It's your default ringtone."

"Clever," I laughed. I picked up a red crayon and started to draw a streak behind the hippo.

"What are you doing?" she laughed.

"Adding a rainbow, you turned it into Jeremy," I giggled. We fought over colors and scribbled all over the page until the waiter came back with the shrimp, and then I fought with Santana to divide it evenly.

"Why are you afraid of heights?" I asked, munching on another breadstick.

"I wasn't until the summer after high school," Santana said. "We went on a camping trip. Puck grabbed me and jumped off a cliff into the water when I wasn't ready. We almost hit rocks. Actually, Puck cut his leg pretty bad."

"That's terrifying," I said. "Were you dating Puck then?"

Santana set her breadstick down and tossed her head to the side to flip her bangs out of her face. She licked her lips cautiously and I noticed she was trying not to look directly at me.

"Puck and I haven't been..._anything_, really, since junior year," Santana said. "Of high school, not college. I'm a junior now, obviously," she shook her head to clarify. She cleared her throat and took a sip of her tea. "Most of the Glee club was there. Let's not talk about Puck, okay?"

"Sure," I nodded. The waiter came back and brought us our food. We shuffled a bit to clear the crayons and drawings to the side so there was room.

"Can I try yours?" I asked. Santana smiled and pushed her plate towards me. I twisted a bit of noodles around my fork and slurped it up into my mouth. She leaned forward and stole one of my meatballs.

"Hey!" I snapped, but it was too late. She had bitten off half of it, although she did offer me her fork with the remaining portion. I leaned forward to chomp at it, but I clamped down on air as she pulled it back and ate the other half.

"You can have more of mine," she offered. I laughed and shook my head.

"I'm fine, thanks though," I nodded. I started to swirl my fork in my spaghetti. We ate for a bit, exchanging favorite foods and books and stuff. She was really glad to hear I didn't watch or read Twilight for some reason.

"Hey, so I have something I've been meaning to ask you," I said, setting my fork down. Santana froze and lowered her fork from her mouth as I patted my mouth with my napkin. I smiled reassuringly and nudged my foot against hers under the table.

"The other day, during Never Have I Ever, you said you'd never gone down on a gu-"

"Brittany!" Santana hissed, kicking me lightly with her foot. I laughed and kicked her back.

"And before, when we were 'studying', you wouldn't let me-"

Santana stretched forward and clasped her hand over my mouth. She was trying to give me a stern look, but her embarrassment was making her giggle. I grinned against her palm and stuck out my tongue. She immediately pulled her hand away.

"Stop it," Santana laughed. "Okay, okay, just lower your voice a little."

"Is that something you just don't want to do?" I asked quietly. She shrank a little in her seat and bowed her head down. Her cheeks were tinged crimson and she rose her hand to rub over the bridge of her nose.

"I told you before. I do," Santana said quietly. She glanced around and took a sip of her tea and nervously licked her lips when she set the glass back down. "It's just a...a really _intimate_ thing. And I want you- I want to..." She lifted her hand to rub her temple.

"Santana," I said softly. She looked up at me and I smiled as sweetly as I could. "I just wanted to ask if there was a reason or something, because I like doing stuff with you. So much."

"I just don't want to mess up," Santana blushed. "I _am_ comfortable. With..." she glanced around. "With sex," she whispered.

"I know that," I said, propping my head up with my palm as I rested my elbow against the table. "I know from this morning, and last ni-"

"Stop, someone will hear," Santana warned.

"Wank-"

"Stop," Santana shook her head, chuckling. "I get it, you know I like sex. It's just something I haven't done before and never felt comfortable enough with someone to try."

I peeled my cheek away from my hand and sat up a little. I nudged her with my foot and smiled.

"Do you feel comfortable with me?" I asked. She lifted her hand up to cover her face. I could tell she was smiling - laughing, even, because her shoulders started to shake.

"Yes, Britt," Santana nodded. "I'm very comfortable with you."

"So, could we-"

"Brittany," Santana said sternly. "We can _talk_ about this _later_."

"Here," I smiled, grabbing a crayon. "If it's about the mechanics, I can draw a diagra-"

"Brittany!"

* * *

><p>"So you're plan was to scare me, feed me, and then..." Santana slipped off her underwear and dipped her foot into the tub. "...take a bubble bath?"<p>

"We can't both fit in the tub at home," I giggled as she slowly sat down. I held her waist as she laid down into me. "And I didn't _mean_ to scare you."

"I know," Santana said, twisting her head to kiss me. "We can totally fit in the bath at home."

"No, it's too small," I said as she lifted my arms and placed them around her so that I was hugging her.

"Have you tried?"

"No," I shook my head and she laughed.

"Then you don't know," Santana shrugged and sighed as she relaxed against me. "This is nice."

"Mm," I hummed, kissing her temple and shifting a little so we slid further into the warm water. Santana started giggling and hand to wade her hands out in front of her so that bubbles didn't tickle her neck. She wiggled a bit and nuzzled her forehead against my neck and this time I sighed and closed my eyes.

"Can you sing something?" I asked quietly.

"What do you want me to sing, babe?" Santana murmured.

"I don't know."

Santana didn't respond right away. I think she was trying to think of a song. I didn't mind waiting, and kind of forgot I asked her because it was so soothing to lay in the hot water with her. She moved in my arms and it took me a second to realize she was turning around to lay her front against me. Her hands slid down my back and down my waist before settling underneath my butt.

"Ass ass ass ass," she giggled as she squeezed her fingers against my buttocks. My head snapped back as I started laughing loudly.

"S-stop! Don't sing that!" I laughed.

"But it's our jam," Santana snickered, wrinkling her nose before she placed a kiss on my lips. We were both trembling with laughter, so the kiss didn't really last longer than a half a second. She slipped her hands out from underneath me and let them slide around to rest on my stomach.

"Okay, okay, I'll sing you a song," Santana said, lifting up a little as she shifted so that her side was pressed into me. I scooted over so her body wasn't all above water.

"If we could sit together a moment," Santana sang softly as she brought her lips up to my ear. Her breath tickled and I tilted my head away a bit as I giggled quietly.

"And talk forever just to pass the time. I would smile as shivers and chills run down my spine," she said, tickling her fingers against the skin of my side, "When your eyes are locked on mine." She stared up at me and continued her hand upward until she cupped my cheek. "Oh, we'll fill the metro skies with country air... And when you close your tired eyes I'll meet you there."

"...I'll meet you there," I whispered. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine. I smiled as she pulled away.

"Deep inside of you, there's a ruby glow," I sang softly, letting my hand fall off her arm and resting over her chest. "And it gets brighter than you and I will ever know. There's a rushing sound that surrounds us when we walk alone. And it's everything we've never known."

"Wander down the street. And I would be the pavement beneath your feet," Santana whispered. "If we could just be immobile for some time and finally figure out the way we feel-"

"About the missing puzzle pieces and cloudy question marks-" I interjected.

"It still looks a bit surreal," we sang together. She wrinkled her nose and looked like she was holding back a laugh.

"Oh I tend to disappear...here and there," Santana sang softly. She lifted her hand to cover my eyes. "So concentrate and you'll feel me everywhere."

"And we'll fill the metro skies with country air. If you're lost when you close your eyes I'll meet you there," she whispered and kissed my neck. I inhaled softly, trying to picture her in my head. She moved up to my jaw and placed another, soft and gentle kiss there.

"You could be anywhere," I said more than I sang. My throat kind of felt a little constricted.

"I'll meet you there," she said softly. I felt her shift and her hand slipped away from covering my eyes as she cupped my face with both hands and lowered her lips to mine. I didn't know why, but I'd suddenly started to feel afraid when she covered my eyes. The kiss she gave me was delicate and calm, a little wet, but overall, extremely soothing. I lifted my hand out of the water to tangle up through her hair and press against the back of her head. She shifted, swinging her leg over mine as she sat down in my lap.

I felt my heart pounding in my chest, not because I was aroused. I mean, I couldn't not be, I had a naked Santana straddling me and making out with me. But it was like this surge of warmth was swelling up in my chest and forcing my heart to crash against my ribcage. Santana was so confusing, so interesting, in the best possible way. I felt this weird sensation spread through my body rapidly, like when you're half asleep and you feel like you're plummeting to your death, only it wasn't as bad. Just scary. I think in a good way. My hand slapped against the tub as I tried to catch myself, and I felt my other hand cling to Santana.

"Mm, Britt," Santana said, dragging her lips away from mine and sitting up a little. Her brow knit together a little and she smiled to hide the concerned look on her face. "You okay?"

"I just thought I was falling," I murmured. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Maybe we should get out of the tub, the heat might be getting to you," Santana suggested. I nodded and she started to stand up out of the water. I was pretty sure it wasn't the temperature that was making my head and feel so funny. It definitely wasn't the reason my heart was trying to burst through my chest.

* * *

><p>It was still pretty early, since Santana and I barely did anything today, so Santana texted Tina and asked if we could use her laptop to watch a movie. Tina said she left the door between our rooms unlocked, so we were more than welcome to.<p>

"-no, come on, please?" I asked.

"I already agreed to watch the movie with you," Santana sighed, rolling her eyes. She was snuggled up against me in her pajamas.

"I've been wanting to hear you sing this since the roommate interview," I pleaded. "It's the best Disney Villain song."

"I disagree, Be Prepared was a hundred times better," Santana shook her head as she hit the spacebar on the computer to pause the movie. "Or Gaston's song from Beauty and the Beast."

"Those were pretty good," I nodded. "Oh, and I did really like the one in the Princess and the Frog."

"Oh, yes, that was really good. Way better than I was expecting," Santana nodded.

"Wait, don't change the subject. You have to sing it," I said, grabbing a fist full of her shirt and tugging on it gently. "Your voice is so good."

"What do I get out of this?" Santana said, raising a brow.

"A kiss?" I said.

"But I can steal one," Santana said, quickly pressing her lips to mine. I felt my eyes flutter and I blushed.

"...a dance?" I exhaled. Even the lightest kisses Santana gave me could leave me breathless.

"Hmm, I sing for you, and you dance for me?" Santana grinned. "That sounds like a fair trade." She stretched her arm forward and smacked down on the space bar to start playing the movie again.

"-with no one else to turn to-" The movie started playing and Ursula was speaking on screen as Santana wiggled out from my arm to sit up.

"I admit that in the past I've been a nasty," Santana said and I turned the volume down on the computer. "They weren't kidding when they called me, well, a _bitch_." Santana stood up on the bed as she flicked her wrist to the side and shrugged lightly. I giggled at her decision to change the verse.

"But you'll find that nowadays, I've mended all my ways. Repented, seen the light, and made a switch. To this-" She winked at me. "And I fortunately know a little magic." She threw her hands in the air and looked about the room as her lips spread into a grin. "It's a talent that I always have possessed."

Santana hopped off the bed and I twisted around to follow her with my gaze. She opened up our suitcase and started tossing clothes out until she found what she was looking for. She paused at me and smiled.

"And dear lady, please don't laugh. I use it on behalf," she giggled as she slowly pulled Jeremy out of the suitcase. "Of the miserable, and lonely, and depressed." She held him away and brought a hand up to her mouth as said to me, "Pathetic."

"Poor unfortunate souls!" Santana cried, tossing Jeremy up in the air. I shot up and caught him as he fell. "In pain, in need," Santana said, dramatically placing the back of her hand on her forehead as she clutched at her chest desperately.

"This one longing to be thinner," she snapped her hand at Jeremy and then waving both hands at me. "That one wants to get the _girl_. And do I help them? Yes, indeed."

I laughed and hugged Jeremy closer.

"Those poor unfortunate souls! So sad, so true," Santana sang loudly as she gestured back to the suitcase. "They come flocking to my cauldron crying, 'Spells, Santana, please!' And I help them? Yes, I _do_."

Santana stepped towards me and widened her eyes as she looked at me with a sly smile. She was so in character, it was amazing.

"Now it's happened once or twice. Someone couldn't pay the price," Santana shook her head. "And I'm afraid I had to rake 'em 'cross the coals." She held her hand up with her fingers extended like claws as she swiped the air playfully.

"Yes, I've had the odd complaint, but on the whole I've been a saint," Santana said, smiling at me deviously as she batted her eyes and shrugged with her arms in the air.

"To those poor unfortunate soooouuuuls," she sang as she shook her shoulders back and forth and danced towards me. I laughed again as she leaned forward.

"Have we got a deal?" She said, gripping Jeremy and tearing him from my grasp. She placed a knee on the mattress and dipped closer into me.

"Your voice?" I whispered. My heart was thumping again in my chest.

"Mm," she hummed. "You'll have your looks. Your pretty face," she said, scratching her fingers up my throat and along my chin. I felt my body pull forward with her touch, leaning in to kiss her, but she pulled away.

"And don't underestimate the importance of _body language_," Santana said, running her hands down her sides as she swayed her hips back and forth. I turned and hit the spacebar on Tina's laptop. Santana froze and dropped her hands.

"Britt, I'm not done-"

I scrambled from the bed and snatched her lips in mine. She stumbled back, but I pressed into her and forced her onto the other double bed. Her hands found their way up to my face as mine crawled down her shirt and started to bunch it up.

"Wait, stop, no fair," Santana said, tearing away from my lips and holding my face still a few inches above her head. "We had an agreement."

"You didn't finish the song," I whined, pressing against her palms, trying to get at her lips again.

"Because you jumped me in the middle of it," Santana laughed. "That's not my fault."

"Please, Santana," I whimpered, wiggling my thighs against her. She inhaled sharply and shook her head.

"You promised," Santana said as she struggled out from underneath me.

"Fine," I murmured as I sat up. My lip curled into a smile. "Only if...if you agree to let me do whatever I want afterwards."

"We already made a deal," Santana said, arching her brow. "I get my way, regardless."

I stood up and walked towards Tina's laptop again. "We could always just go back to watching the movie after I dance."

"-what?" Santana said, sitting up straighter on the other bed. "No, fine. We'll do what you want."

"Awesome," I smirked and closed out of the movie. I spent a moment longer looking through Tina's iTunes library until I found a song that I could dance to. I pushed off the bed and twirled around to face Santana as I got to my feet.

I was really glad I wasn't wearing my duck print pajamas and had decided to wear shorts, because I didn't think it would have been as alluring when I started to shake my hips back and forth to the music. Santana smiled and wiggled her eyebrows at me as I moved towards her. I grabbed her hand, pulling her up out of the bed and held her close. She gasped at the sudden closeness, but the moment I started moving to the music, my mindset had shifted away from getting her in the bed with me. She wanted me to dance, so I was going to give her a dance.

I dipped down a little and then rocked my hips against her before pushing her back away from the beds and towards the desk in the corner of the room. She stumbled, but I held her hands and steadied her. Her eyes were wide and her jaw hung open a little. I moved towards her again, extending my hand past her and pulling out the chair from the desk. When I rolled my hips towards her again, she gulped and fell back into the seat. I pulled my body up and walked around behind her, letting my hands fall down to her stomach and slowly dragged them up.

_Nobody knows what I'm feeling inside. I find it so stupid, so why should I hide? That I-love to make love to you, baby._

Santana let out a labored breath as my hands ran up her chest, dragging along the contours of her body. I could feel by the fabric beneath my fingertips that she was only wearing a tank top. I slowly continued my rotation around to her side. I pulled off my top as swayed back and forth.

"B-britt," Santana stammered, but I ignored her.

_So many ways wanna touch you tonight. I'm a big girl got no secrets this time. Yeah I- Love to make love to you, baby._

Once my shirt was off, I gripped the back of the chair and began to roll my body towards her, slowly arching my stomach and letting it fall back. I continued to roll my body up and down as I swung my leg over both of hers. I didn't touch her yet and I swatted her hands when she tried to run them over my abs.

_If this would be a perfect world, we'd be together then- Only got just one life this I've learned, who cares what they gonna say?_

I continued to sway my hips towards her, dipping down so that she could get a decent view of my chest as I let my hands crawl underneath the bottom of her shirt. Santana inhaled sharply again as I tugged it off her. Her hands shot back to the chair to steady herself as I pressed my hips down on her thighs and slowly slid against her.

"Brittany," she pleaded and I wrapped my arms around her neck, allowing her to run her hands up my back as I continued to roll my hips into her. She fumbled desperately with the clasp of my bra and I laughed a little when she grunted in frustration. I lifted my hands and removed it for her, purposefully slow. She fidgeted beneath me until I pulled it off completely and tossed it aside. I dropped my hands to her neck, dragging them slowly down to her collarbone.

_I wanna dance. And love. And dance. Again._

"I wanna dance," I whispered as I swirled my hips down into hers. She leaned up and ran her tongue along my neck as her fingers dug into my back. The lyrics caught in my throat. _And love._ It felt like my heart had moved up and was trying to burst out of my mouth. She was racking her fingers up the back of my ribcage and pulling me closer.

"And dance, again," she muttered as she brought her lips to mine. Had she said it? I had lost focus. I wasn't even moving swaying to the music anymore. I don't think she noticed, because she suddenly stood up, brushing her leg between mine as she stumbled into me. I brought my leg up and wrapped it around her as she pushed me down onto the bed.

_Dance, yes. Love, next. Dance, yes. Love, next._

"S-santa-" I moaned. She cut me off with her tongue and wiggled her thumbs beneath both the band of my shorts and my underwear, tugging them down and of in one swift motion. My own hands had found their way to cup her breasts and I felt her push her weight into me.

_Baby, your fire is lighting me up. The way that you move is reason enough, that I love to make love to you, baby._

She scrambled to remove her own shorts while I was preoccupied with her chest, and in seconds, we were both naked with her rolling into me. I opened my eyes to look up at her while she kissed me. They were clenched closed, and I felt my brow furrow a little. If I could just see her eyes, then I could see if maybe she was feeling the same way I did. Was her heart racing just as fast as mine? I slid my hand away from her breast and moved it up to feel her heart. She opened her eyes when I stopped massaging her breasts and pulled her tongue back into her mouth.

"Baby, you okay?" she whispered. Her heart was pounding against my palm and her chest heaved as noisy breathes escaped her lips. I stared up at her as I tried to catch my own breath. My eyes shifted back and forth, and she held a steady gaze on me. I didn't know how to answer her question. I wanted her. More than I ever wanted anyone or anything else. It was scary, but because it was her, I was okay with that.

"Brittany?" Santana whispered. The way she looked back at me was full of sincere concern, and I felt bad for making her worried. I was fine. Just caught off guard by the way my body was reacting. I'd never froze up during sex before, not unless it didn't feel good. This felt amazing. It was like how no one actually liked scary movies or roller coasters, just the thrill and rush of them that made your heart race like you only had seconds left to live.

"I-I'm great," I said, leaning forward and connecting our lips again. She hesitated against me for a second, but succumbed to it when I ran my tongue between her lips. It felt incredible to kiss her. Do you know those pop rock candies? My lips and tongue felt tingly like that against hers.

"Britt," she gasped, but I pressed my hand to her shoulder as I rolled her over on the bed. I knew she was worried, but I knew I didn't have the right words to say what I was feeling. I was scared I'd say something wrong and she would panic. It was better just to show her how I felt, I think. Once I had her on her back, I slid my hand down her side as I pressed my leg between hers. She wrapped her leg up around my waist and moaned in my mouth.

Santana rocked slowly, pressing her center against mine. I broke away from her lips to gasp for air, but only long enough to do so. She had her hand gripping my thigh and pulling me into her, her other digging into my side. I pressed my hips harder into her and felt her moan. I let my chest rest on hers as I abandoned using my arms to prop myself up in favor of pressing her leg up higher so I could push closer to her. She tore away from my lips for air and I started to kiss and lick down her neck.

"Ohh," I heard her say. I sucked at the soft skin of her neck and started to trail down to her collarbone. I had to raise my chest a little so I could curl into her thrusts.

"Brit-t-tany," she stammered. I lifted from her neck and slowed to a stop as I stared down at her.

"D-don't stop," she pleaded. I bent down and kissed her.

"Can I?" I glanced down and back up to meet her gaze. She was panting heavily and closed her mouth to inhale through her nose. She clenched her eyes closed and tilted her head to the side, a shy smile sneaking its way across her lips. She nodded and I kissed her cheek.

"I can get the diagram," I giggled.

"Shut up and go, before I change my mind," Santana murmured. I brought my hand up to her face and turned it so she was facing me again. I smiled softly and gazed down at her until she looked back at me.

"Do you trust me?" I asked.

"Of course I do," Santana said softly. She strained forward to meet my lips. I smiled and pushed down into her. I stayed with that kiss for a few seconds before slowly lowering to her neck, pecking soft, sweet kisses downwards. She tensed beneath me when I moved to her chest. I kissed between her breasts and let my tongue drag down along the hard surface of the bone there. She shuddered and scooted up to rest her head against the pillow, bringing me level with her belly button.

"Y-you'll stop if I say to, right?" Santana whispered. I nodded and sucked on the skin below her belly button before glancing up at her.

"If you want me to stop, I will," I said. "But you'll like it, I promise." I started kissing down, shuffling a bit so that I was able to get between her legs. I used my free hand to guide her leg to the side so I could fit, and she gave me a bit of resistance.

"Santana, it's okay," I said quietly.

"C-can you...?" She slipped her hand off of my arm and flipped it so her palm was facing up. I smiled and placed my hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. She couldn't interlace her fingers in mine, but she did her best to try to.

I lowered my lips again and started to kiss up her thigh. I started to kiss higher, and she began to fidget. I pressed my hand down on her leg and pushed down with my arm on her other. I hummed softly and gave her a reassuring squeeze to the hand she had a death grip on. She did her best to relax, but the moment I inched towards the folds of her outer lips, I felt her tense again. I paused for a second, waiting for her to tell me to stop. When she didn't, I lowered and pressed a kiss down.

"Britt," Santana whimpered. I smiled and let my tongue graze out along her entrance. She was already wet, and it was unlike anything I'd ever tasted before. I lowered my tongue again and I heard her huff softly. After a few more exploratory licks and kisses, I let my tongue delve a little deeper between her folds.

"_Fuck,_" she hissed. I let my hand slide away from her leg and rest just above her pelvis as I slid my tongue a bit further and wiggled it. Her hips rose a little into my mouth and I sucked on her as I slowly slid my tongue out. When I pushed it back in, she tightened around it and rocked into me again. I continued doing that until she started gasping. I moved up a little and ran the tip of my tongue until I found the bead that was her clit. She gave a strangled cry when I swirled my tongue around it.

"Oh god, Britt," she stammered. Her hand shot forward and gripped her fingers through my hair. It was still damp from the bathtub. It didn't take much longer for her to climax once I started sucking on her again. She let out a cry, and I let my tongue drag up and away from her, making sure to keep ahold of her hand as she writhed on the bed. When she stopped wiggling, I lowered again. She was panting, but didn't protest when I ran my tongue back over her. She moaned and pulled her hand away from my hair to grip the blanket beneath her.

I wiggled myself back up her body and she loosened her hold on my hand only to shift around her fingers and grasp it properly. I laid down against her and she found my lips with hers and kissed me. It was soft and weak, but she pressed several of them against my lips to make up for it. I giggled and nuzzled my nose against her.

"That was..." She said as her chest heaved up and down. She used her free hand to brush the hair out of my face. "...I... ugh, just kiss me."

I let out another giggle before pressing my lips to hers. She twisted a little beneath me and I rolled to my side so I wasn't crushing her with my weight. She slid her leg up my thigh and put a little more force into her kissing. She moved away from my lips and started to kiss and nip at my neck. I opened my mouth to say something to her, but was cut off.

"Oh, my god."

Santana froze against me. My eyes widened, but I couldn't lift my head to look up with her lips pressed to my neck. I recognized Tina's voice, though, and dread washed over me.

"-if they didn't answer the door, they're probably sleep-" I heard Mike as Santana shot off me, scrambling to conceal us with the blankets. She buried herself into me as she threw the covers over us.

"Out, get out," Tina spat. I managed to wiggle my head from under the covers and look up at her. She had her hand clamped tightly over her eyes and was blindly shoving Mike back through the door that conjoined our two rooms. We must have forgotten to lock it when we grabbed Tina's laptop.

"-not really surprised, I mean, yesterday that bed wasn't even slept in-" Mike said as she shoved him out of the room and slammed the door.

"Just go- Out. Somewhere. Go get- Coffee- Leave." Tina pressed her forehead to the door and stood there for a moment. I could hear Mike shuffling in the other room and then heard the door to their hotel room open and close.

"You two better be putting on clothes," Tina said, not moving. I threw the blanket off of us and forced Santana to sit up. As I scrambled around, she just sat there, petrified. I grabbed both sets of our pajamas, aside from my shirt. I couldn't find it. I grabbed the next best thing and threw Santana's NYU hoodie over my head and tugged it down. She was slowly picking at the bunched up clothes I had set next to her.

"That's my underwear," I said softly. "These are yours-"

"Don't talk about it, just put your damn clothes on," Tina said. I silently helped Santana get dressed. Once we were mostly covered, I said so. Tina pulled away from the door, her hand pinching the bridge of her nose as she stared at the ground.

"Tina-"

"Zzt," she lifted her hand to shush me. "Sit down, both of you."

Santana all about fell on the spot, dropping to the mattress we'd just been rolling around on. I sat down next to her, leaving a little gap between us. She hadn't looked at me since they walked in.

"I _knew_ you two liked each other, but _Jesus Christ_, I didn't know you two were screwing around," Tina spat as she paced in front of us. She ran her hand through her hair and stopped abruptly to look up at us.

"I just... ugh," Tina sat down on the second bed, pressing her hand to her forehead and just shaking her head back and forth. I didn't know what to say. Santana sat motionless, a vacant expression on her face. Tina was, I think, trying to figure out what to say. We sat there in silence for what felt like forever. It was long enough for a knock at the door to force Tina to look up again. She stood up and moved to the door, and Mike stepped in. They exchanged a small conversation in whispers and she took the coffee he was holding in his hands and walked back to the bed. Mike followed her quietly and sat next to her.

"I got you guys some hot cocoa," Mike said, extending his arm to me. I looked up and saw him smile softly at me.

"Thank you," I murmured and handed it to Santana before reaching forward again to grab the second cup. Santana held hers in both hands and looked a little like a mouse, keeping her eyes trained down. Tina took her cup, but I was pretty sure Mike had gotten her something stronger. She took a long sip, and then lowered her cup, exhaling sharply. Santana flinched.

"Are...you mad?" I asked quietly. Tina looked up at me, her eyes widening a bit. Mike placed his hand on her knee and shook his head.

"Just surprised," Mike said. "We would never be mad at you. Either of you." He glanced to Santana and smiled at her. She didn't even acknowledge him.

"...how long?" Tina said, glancing between us. "How long has this been going on?"

"Well," I gulped, looking back at Santana. She just stared uselessly at her cocoa. She hadn't moved since I handed it to her. "...I don't really know how to answer your question."

"Was the first time you guys did this this weekend?" Tina asked. "Because we just... with the Britt-Kisses, and the party. That was just Friday-"

"Oh," I shook my head slowly. "...that wasn't our first kiss."

"What?" Tina gapped. Mike squeezed her thigh again and shook his head.

"Tina, calm down," he said softly. "Brittany. Santana," he looked over at Santana and smiled again. She slowly looked up at him after being addressed directly, only to lower her gaze back to her cup.

"It's okay, whatever you two have been doing, for however long you have," Mike said reassuringly. I felt my shoulders relax a little, and my chest didn't feel so tight. Mike nudged Tina and let out a small laugh. "I can't believe you fell for jellyfish yesterday."

"You knew?" Tina said, smacking his arm.

"I thought you knew. You told me you thought they liked each other anyway," Mike said defensively. He smiled up at me. "So, you kissed before they made you?"

"...a few weeks ago," I nodded. Mike was being really nice. He wasn't nearly as scary as Tina was. Not even a little.

"You've only lived with them for like three weeks, Brittany," Tina gasped. Mike shushed her.

"Okay," Mike nodded. "...are you two...? Dating?"

"I don't know," I shrugged and looked at Santana. She looked away and gave a weak shrug that was almost impossible to see.

"Oh, no," Tina shook her head. She suddenly furrowed her brow and pressed her cup into Mike's chest as she stood up. "You did not do that to her." Tina loomed over Santana and shoved her palm against Santana's shoulder. I instinctively jumped between them.

"No, Brittany," Tina shook her head. "She needs to at least own up to the fact that she's involved." Mike put his arm across Tina's chest and pulled her back, keeping in front of her as I held my ground.

"She's just scared," I said. "You walked in on us-! What if we walked in on you? You'd be upset too."

"Tina, come on, cut her some slack," Mike said. I turned and looked down at Santana. She hadn't moved aside from being jolted back and continued to stare at the ground. I knelt down and looked up at her.

"Santana, it's okay," I whispered. She slowly looked at me, and I noticed for the first time she had tears welling up in her eyes. I rose up a little and cautiously let my hands wrap around her. I hadn't even put them completely around her when she lurched forward and buried her face into my shoulder.

"It's okay," I cooed softly, raising my hand up to stroke the back of her head. She started shaking in my arms. She hadn't been ready for this. Maybe if we had talked about it again and had control over how we told them, she wouldn't be so terrified.

"-sorry, I'm sorry," Santana mumbled. She twisted and pressed her face against my neck.

"About what?" Tina said. I looked up and saw Mike was restraining her. She definitely didn't look 'not mad.' "For leading this poor girl on? Santana, that's mean. You're mean."

"She's not," I snapped, squeezing Santana tighter. Santana wasn't mean. She was the nicest, most sweet and caring person. Ever. She twisted in my arms and glanced up at Tina.

"I don't care if she's kissing you or doing whatever it is you two are doing, but," Tina spat. "Santana, Brittany has feelings too. You can't play her like you played Puck."

I froze. I saw that Mike had too. Suddenly, Santana jerked forward, tearing out of my arms and pushed Mike back. He twisted and tugged Tina back as she stepped forward.

"I am not just fooling around!" Santana shouted. I staggered up and caught Santana's hand as she advanced towards them again. Mike held his hand out to keep her back.

"Santana, she didn't mean that-" Mike said. She wrenched her hand away from me, but I moved forward and wrapped my arms around her.

"Santana, I know," I whispered. "Calm down."

Santana started spewing words in Spanish, and I knew it had gotten out of control. This wasn't the way we should have told them. I tightened my hold on her. Tina had started shouting back.

"Will you fucking speak English?" Tina cried. "You don't say a single word this whole time and now you won't fucking shut up!"

"Tina!" Mike shouted. "Not helping!"

"No, what are you saying?" Tina growled. Santana tensed against me. She stopped shouting and turned her head to look away from all of us. Her chest was rising and falling heavily, and I could feel her heart thumping against the arm I had pressed over it to hold her back.

"...I'm gay," Santana said quietly. Everyone fell silent for a moment. Tina stopped fighting against Mike.

"I know," Tina said.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Songs are I'll Meet You There by Owl City - .com/watch?v=gloqbD2JaaU , Dance Agan by Jennifer Lopez ft. Pitbull - .com/watch?v=bjgFH01k0gU&ob=av2e , and Poor Unfortunate Souls. **

**I made a doodle of Santana and Brittany's Breadstix drawings:**

****tinyurl . com / breadstixdoodle****

****Munkeyy made another drawing! :)****

******tinyurl . com / munkeyyyCH25******

****And now for some _bad news_, guys. :( ...I feel terrible for doing this, leaving you guys on a cliffhanger and all, but I think I'm going to take a day or two to just clear my head. I've been working non-stop on this since I started it. I keep forgetting to like... eat and stuff. I even wrote like 6k of Chapter 26 already, but it's just really crappy and ...Chapter 26 is really important, and I don't want it to read wrong. I need to take some time just to think about how to relay whats in my head and put it to down in words. Plus, I need to discuss with CAPPU (Creative Alliance of Pillow Pet Unicorns - my creative development team) the rest of my outline. This or the next Chapter is essentially the end of what I guess could be considered Part One of ITYtD. I don't want to get to the end of 26 without having stronger ideas of how to get to the end of the story, and I know you guys don't like long breaks between the chapters. If I keep burning myself out like this, it'll just take longer and longer for me to write each chapter.****

****So, again, taking a day or two to rejuvenate. Plus my classes start back up and stuff. But once I've got everything figured out, rest, and stuff, things will get back on schedule. I promise. :) I just need to not stare at a computer screen all day for a few days. Thanks for your patience, your reviews, and all your support. Before you freak out, there are still like 10+ chapters (at least) that have to happen, so don't worry. It's not ending any time soon. We still have to get through the rest of their semester. ;)****

****- HeeBee****


	26. The Quinn Thing

The room was silent, except for the sounds of Tina breathing heavily as she leaned against Mike's arms. He was cautiously looking down at her as he stepped back. She gently pushed his arms down and staggered upright. I didn't think it was possible, but Santana tensed even more in my arms. Otherwise, she had remained completely immobile.

I wanted to say or do something. What Santana just said must have been really difficult for her to say, judging by the reaction her body was having against me. I just couldn't think of a single thing that would help. The tension between them was virtually palpable. Santana's reaction was so delayed, like she was living several seconds behind everyone else. I thought at first she hadn't heard Tina, but then she jerked back a bit violently in my arms and snapped her head to look up.

"You know?" Her voice was small, hardly above a whisper. "H-how...? Since when?"

"Since, like, high school," Tina said softly. Her expression had softened significantly since just seconds before when she was screaming at Santana. She took a step forward, but I instinctively took a step back, pulling Santana with me. Santana tensed again, and her fingers dug into my arm.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Santana sounded so small. I squeezed my arms around her, but I don't think it helped. Or that she noticed.

"I tried to get you to talk about it like a million times," Tina said, shaking her head slowly. Her lips curled into a weak smile. "But I'm not the one that's supposed to tell you you're gay."

Santana hiccuped. Or laughed. I'm not sure. It came out wet and strangled. I loosened my grip on her and she lifted her hand to her face. I let my hands fall away once I realized she was standing on her own, but I kept myself pressed against her in case she started to waver. I looked up at her, and her mouth was twitching in an attempt to smile, but her lower lip was quivering too much. She dropped her hand away from sheepishly covering her face.

"T-that's the f-first time I've said it o-out loud," she stammered as huge tears rolled down her face. Tina's smile faltered and before I had time to react, she had swooped in and pulled Santana into a tight hug.

"I th-thought if I d-didn't say it... I thought maybe," Santana sobbed into Tina's shoulder, gripping her tightly in a vice grip.

"Sweetie, it's okay," Tina whispered, hugging Santana tighter to her.

"I thought o-once I said it, there was n-no taking it back," Santana cried. When Tina placed a kiss on the top of her forehead, I realized I felt a little useless. Like, somehow, _I_ was the one intruding on Santana. Who was I to bear witness to something she had been struggling with for so long when I had only known her for under a month? I let my head fall a little to stare at the ground.

"Sweetheart, there's nothing to take back," Tina cooed. "We don't care if you're gay, straight, bi, or whatever. Honey, nothing will change that we love you."

Santana didn't reply. Her sobs got a little more audible, but otherwise, she was silent. A tap on my shoulder made me look up. Mike was smiling gently at me and had his arms extended. I didn't realize until he wrapped them around me that I had tears running down my cheeks. He gave me a tight squeeze and then stretched his one arm away to pull Santana and Tina into our hug. Santana staggered backwards and into me, letting out a stifled cry of surprise. I unfurled my one arm from around Mike just before I was squished into her and let it wrap around her and Tina. We stood there for a while, just huddled together in a warm, slightly damp and teary embrace.

After a while, Santana started to twist under all our weight. Mike loosened his grip and stepped back. Tina let go too, but Santana turned and buried herself into me. I shifted my weight to my back foot in surprise and then let my free arm tighten around her. She had her arms tucked into herself and I felt a little bit of wetness on the crook of my neck as she nuzzled her face against it.

"Santana," I barely managed to whisper. My throat was tight. What was I supposed to say? I looked up at Tina and she smiled softly at me. I squeezed my arms tighter around Santana.

"I'm not," Santana sniffled. She peeled her face away from my neck and I let her shift back a little. She still had this big tears rolling down her cheeks. For every tear that fell down her face, I wanted to give her a thousand kisses, but I didn't know where we stood anymore. Not now.

"I'm not leading you on," Santana said, sniffling again as she wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. It didn't really help, because new tears just replaced old ones. "I'm not."

"I know," I nodded. I didn't know if she heard me, because I didn't feel like words came out of my mouth. She smiled weakly. I did know. Santana was too sweet and nice to me for this to be just sex or two girls fooling around. I liked her too much. And she said she liked me. I just hoped she still liked me. I lifted a hand from around her waist and dragged the pad of my thumb against her cheek. I paused when she closed her eyes and leaned into my hand. Her lips moved, but she didn't make any sounds. I wasn't sure what she said, but then she kissed my palm. I felt my heart skip a beat.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. I let my hand slide away from her cheek and wrap around the back of her neck as I pulled her back into a hug, kissing her forehead gently.

"You didn't do anything wrong," I murmured. She sighed and let her weight fall against me. Mike moved towards Tina and pressed his palm on her shoulder, nodding at me to the double bed. I pulled Santana into me as I sat down and helped her curl up next to me. She still had most of her torso pressed into me when I finally had us settled. Tina and Mike sat down across from us.

"...I didn't mean to yell," Tina murmured after Mike nudged her. "I just..."

"You don't have to explain," Santana shook her head, twisting in my arms to look up at her. She had stopped crying. "I'm a bitch, I know."

"You're not," I whispered. The way she had twisted had her almost laying in my lap. She looked up at me and smiled softly. "You're wonderful."

Santana opened her mouth to speak, but instead she bowed her head a little. Her smile grew a little bigger and she exhaled softly through her nose. Maybe she was embarrassed. It was hard to tell, because her cheeks and eyes were still puffy and red from crying.

"-I know, but I want to apologize anyway," Tina nodded. I looked up and met her gaze.

"Brittany, you didn't do anything wrong either," Mike said. "Tina's just a little emotionally invested in Santana's well-being."

"And yours," Tina added. "I think Santana will agree to this, but even though we've only known you for such a short amount of time, you've really warmed your way into our hearts. Just as much as any of our other friends."

This time I took in a sharp breath. Tina and Santana had been ready to rip each other's throats out just a few minutes before, and yet here they were being kind to me. They were all so close, and the fact that they had welcomed me to become part of their strange, glee club-originated family was just heartwarming. Santana lifted her hand between my arms and tickled my neck gently with her fingertips. I wasn't sure if she was purposefully making light touches or if she just didn't have the strength to do anything more, but it was just the thing to snap me out of my thoughts.

"Are you okay?" I whispered quietly. She nodded and let her hand fall as she twisted to her side and nuzzled herself into my stomach. For a brief moment, I forgot Mike and Tina were there. I was so glad she wasn't crying anymore, and that she had opened up and started talking. But mostly, I was grateful that she was hugging me, as awkward as it was with her laying in my lap. She had opened herself up to be at her most vulnerable. I would have understood if she'd asked me to leave her alone, but instead, she surprised me like she always did.

"I'm not great," Santana said quietly. "But I think I'll be okay if you are."

I smiled and lifted my hand from her back to brush a strand of hair out of her face. Sometimes in movies, when actors cry, you get mad because they still look really pretty and you know in real life people don't look like that when they cry. Santana's brow was still slightly furrowed, her hair disheveled, and her nose was red, along with the rest of her face. Yet to me, she was beautiful. I wanted to kiss every inch of her face just to reassure her of that fact.

"You two are so cute," Tina chimed from the other bed. I looked up, blushing sheepishly as she leaned into Mike. I think if she hadn't said anything, I would have embarrassed Santana by leaning down and pecking her face in little mouse kisses.

"Shut up," Santana grumbled, but from my view of her, I could tell she was smiling timidly. I leaned forward and picked up her cocoa from the nightstand, where I'd put it when she lunged at Tina.

"Thanks," Santana whispered. She sat up a little and took a sip of it this time, rather than just staring at it after I handed it to her. She gave me back the cup and I stole a sip, because mine was at the foot of the bed and I didn't want to move. I think it helped, because she twisted a little, still leaning against me, to face Tina.

"I don't remember you trying to talk to me about it," Santana said, her voice a little raspy as her brow furrowed. It was inappropriate, but I would be lying if I didn't think she sounded hot.

"Most of the times you were drunk," Tina shook her head and shrugged lightly. "It was hard to get you to talk. Most times you didn't, and when you did, you were pretty much as far gone as you were when I found out about it."

"When was that, exactly?" Santana said, narrowing her eyes as she held her cup of cocoa to her lips.

"Rachel's graduation party," Tina said.

"Wait," Mike said, shifting up a bit. "What?"

"Oh my god," Santana groaned, rolling her eyes. "_She_ told you about _that_?"

"No," Tina shook her head. "You did."

"No _fucking_ way," Santana exhaled. "Is that why you're always asking me about Quinn when I'm drunk?"

"Quinn?" I asked. My voice was a little higher than I meant it to be. Santana turned and shook her head at me before returning her gaze to Tina.

"Well, yeah," Tina nodded. "It was easier to try and bring her up then ask you point-blank if you were, you know. Gay."

Santana cringed a little. I let my arm slip around her stomach and pulled her closer so that her back was resting against me. She relaxed and let her head rest against my neck.

"I'm confused," Mike frowned. "Wasn't that the party...?"

"Yes, it was," Tina said, her expression dropping a little. She looked a bit solemn for a second.

"I'm confused too," I murmured. "What does Quinn have to do with all this?"

"Everything," Tina smiled.

"Does not," Santana grumbled. She twisted and looked up at me. "Look, it's a long story. I didn't even know Tina knew about it. It's nothing."

"You might as well tell her," Tina said, raising her coffee up to her lips. "While we're getting things out."

"Hah," Santana said with a huff. "I don't see how it will help. Besides, I honestly don't remember half of that party."

"I'll fill in the blanks," Tina nodded.

"But so much happened before that party," Santana groaned. "I'd have to backtrack a lot."

"We can go back to talking about you and Brittany," Tina suggested. "And the compromising position we found you in. Was that your first ti-"

"I'll tell her about 'the Quinn thing,' God," Santana spat, holding her hand up to hush Tina.

* * *

><p><em>Three Years Ago...<em>

* * *

><p>"What an interesting way to start a story," Tina interjected.<p>

"Will you shut the fuck up, Tina?" Santana spat. "This is _my _story."

"That you can't remember half of," I pointed out.

"I remember it happened three fucking years ago," Santana growled.

"I'm keeping track of how many times you swear throughout this story, I just hope you know that," Mike smiled weakly.

"Oh, fuck you," Santana scowled.

"That's four, including earlier," Mike said, ticking off a finger.

"Babe, I think we can forego the pretense of the Britt-Kisses," Tina whispered.

* * *

><p><em>Three goddamn Years Ago...<em>

_"Santana...?" The brunette stepped into the girl's bathroom cautiously. There was a sound of a flushing toilet followed by the shuffling of footsteps behind one of the stalls._

_"Santana, you're not-"_

_"-Go away, Berry," the voice snapped from behind the stall. The door shot open moments later, and the Latina Cheerio emerged. She sniffled lightly and avoided direct eye contact with the brunette as she stepped forward towards the sink. She adjusted her uniform and straightened confidently, despite dabbing her finger under her lower eyelid quickly as she glanced in the mirror._

_"Were you-?"_

_"I wasn't throwing up, God, will you stop asking that?" Santana snapped._

_"-crying was what I was going to say," Rachel replied quietly. She shuffled and leaned against the sink closest to the door and furthest from Santana._

_"Of course not," Santana said, standing up even taller and glaring at Rachel. "Why would I be crying?" She pushed away from the mirror and bumped her shoulder into Rachel as she brushed against her. Rachel lingered in the bathroom, staring at the ground as Santana left._

* * *

><p>"I don't understand what this has to do with Quinn," I said.<p>

"Just let me tell the story," Santana rolled her eyes. "I'm setting it up, a lot happened that last semester."

"Why did Rachel think you were crying?" I asked.

"I was," Santana sighed.

* * *

><p><em>The choir room was completely silent, full of the solemn faces of the members of New Directions. Only one seat was vacant.<em>

_"Guys, I know you're all upset," Mr. Schuester said. He lifted his hand to rub his upper lip._

_"Of course we're upset, Mr. Schue. We don't even know... w-what happened," Rachel said, looking down at her hands. Her lower lip started to tremble._

_"I know," Mr. Schue nodded. "I talked with Quinn's mom this morning. Her condition is stabilizing. The moment I hear any news, I'll let you guys know. We just need to stay strong. Things will be alright-"_

_"-You don't know that." The voice came from the back of the room, where Santana stood up abruptly. Her brow was furrowed and her nostrils were flaring, but she looked more upset than angry._

_"Santana, calm down," Finn said, leaning back in his seat next to Rachel, twisting to look up at her._

_"No, this is _your_ fault," Santana snapped, pointing at him directly. She stepped down one level of the choir seats and advanced towards him. "You and your _stupid _wedding."_

* * *

><p>"Wedding?" I said, sitting up straighter. "What happened to Quinn? Whose wedding?"<p>

"Stop interrupting!" Santana said. "I'm getting there."

* * *

><p><em>"We didn't go through with it," Rachel said softly.<em>

_"As if that's any better," Santana spat. Her nose wrinkled in a look that was caught somewhere between disgust and like she was going to burst into tears. "Quinn might _die_, and it's all because you two didn't have the sense to listen to _anyone_, and then you had the nerve to not even go through with it! You could at least do me the favor__of ruining your lives if you're going to ruin mi- Quinn's."_

_"Santana!" Mr. Schue snapped. "No one needs to put blame on anyone here. It was an accident."_

_Rachel had huddled into Finn, and it looked like she was going to start crying as well. Finn wrapped his arm around her and started running his hand up and down her arm to calm her down._

_"We're all just as worried as you are, Santana," Kurt murmured quietly._

_"No," Santana snapped, blinking rapidly to keep the tears that were building up in her eyes from falling. "She's not _your_ best friend. None of you understand."_

_Santana stomped down the last row of chairs. Mr. Schue stepped towards her, but she circled around him and stormed out of the room._

* * *

><p>"Rachel cried after you left,"Tina said. "A few of us did, actually."<p>

"Yeah," Santana nodded. "I shouldn't have snapped like that."

"Where did you go? Afterwards?" Tina asked.

"To the hospital," Santana said, looking down at the ground. "They wouldn't let me in to see her. My abuela came and picked me up."

* * *

><p><em>Santana, still clad in her Cheerios uniform, sat in her car with her head pressed to the steering wheel. Tears were streaming down her face, staining her cheeks with watered down black mascara. A honk to her right made her snap up. Her grandmother's maroon Intrepid was parked next to her. She immediately turned off her car and scrambled out and into the other car.<em>

_"Abuelita...!" Santana cried, wrapping her arms quickly around her abuela. The older woman just sat and slowly wrapped her arms around her granddaughter's back and let her cry._

* * *

><p>"How come your grandmother picked you up?" I fidgeted a little and Santana sat up so I could readjust my legs on the bed.<p>

"I wasn't really in any state to drive. My parents were at work," Santana sighed. "As usual."

"Wait, wasn't your dad _at_ the hospital?" Tina asked.

"Yep," Santana nodded slowly. I looked at her quizzically.

"My dad is a doctor," Santana explained. "It's not important to the story."

"Okay," I nodded. She offered me her cocoa again. I wrapped my arm around her and hugged her close again as I drank from her cup. "Continue."

* * *

><p><em>"Eat, please, Santana," Santana's abuela said, setting plate in front of her and waving her hand at the home cooked food. Santana had her fist pressed to her temple and was putting all her weight into her arm as she stared absent-mindedly at the food that was presented to her.<em>

_"Santana, what is this really about?"_

_Santana blinked and looked up at her abuela. The woman wore a stern expression that Santana was used to, but the intensity of the woman's gaze made her shrink a little. Santana pushed the plate little more than an inch away from her and looked away._

_"I'm not hungry," she murmured weakly._

_"You're never hungry," her abuela hissed and shook her head._

_"She might _die,_ abuelita!" Santana said, slamming her hand on the table before shoving her seat backwards. She stood up abruptly as her abuela leaned back._

_"I know you're concerned about your friend, Santana," her abuela said, but the younger Latina was already whipping out of the kitchen. "Santana...!"_

_Santana stormed into the spare bedroom of her grandmother's house that she often used as her own sleeping quarters. She wasn't allowed to put up posters, but there were a few picture frames scattered around the room and she had been allowed to pick out the sheets and comforter. She plopped onto the bed, burying her face in one of the pillows and just cried._

_Some time later, Santana heard the phone ring. She had stopped crying as much, and had her cheek pressed to the mattress as she laid in a crumpled heap on the bed. A few minutes after the phone rang, there was soft knock on the door._

_"Santana," her abuela said softly. "Can I come in?"_

_Santana didn't reply. She remained motionless on the bed, and her abuela took it as a sign of resignation and opened the door._

_"A Will Schuester just called," her abuela said quietly, stepping forward and sitting at the edge of the bed. Santana's shoulders tensed, but otherwise, she stayed where she was on the bed._

_"Your friend, Lucy?"_

_"Quinn," Santana corrected, quietly._

_"Quinn," her abuela nodded. "They moved her out of the ER."_

_"...she's... she's going to be okay?" Santana whispered. She lifted her head up a little off the mattress._

_"There's swelling to the lower portion of her spine," her abuela explained quietly. "They won't know the extent of the damage until it goes down."_

_"What?" Santana sniffed. "What does that mean? Will she be able to walk?"_

_"I don't know, mi amor," her abuela said softly, leaning forward and brushing her hand forward to fix Santana's hair. "No lo sé."_

_"But she's supposed to be on Ch-cheerios with me," Santana stammered. "We're supposed to... A-abuelita-!" Santana dove forward and wrapped her arms around her grandmother's waist. The sobs found their way back up into her throat as she shook against her._

* * *

><p><em>"-Sandbags, my office, NOW." Santana straightened as the voice boomed down the hallway. She closed her locker and sighed, turning around to weave through the sea of students. She froze when she came to a parting in the mass as Quinn rolled past in a wheelchair, just behind Artie.<em>

* * *

><p>"Who is Artie?" I asked, handing Santana back her cocoa.<p>

"One of our friends from Glee club," Tina explained.

"Tina's ex-boyfriend," Santana said, sticking her tongue out. Mike rolled his eyes.

"He was paralyzed from the waist down when he was eight," Mike explained quietly. "Car accident."

"Same as Quinn?" I said softly, looking between the three, and they nodded slowly.

"Quinn's car accident happened because she was texting while she was on her way to Rachel's wedding," Santana said.

"...oh, wow," I murmured. "She was texting Rachel then?"

"Yes," Tina nodded. "Rachel blamed herself. I still think she might, a little."

"Who yelled for you? And why did she call you 'Sandbags'?" I asked, twisting a little to look down at Santana. She wiggled her shoulders as she pressed back into me, nestling herself in my embrace.

"I'm getting there," Santana said, patting my knee gently.

* * *

><p><em>"Sit down, lady Ta-Ta," Sue Sylvester said, gesturing to the red collapsible plastic chair that had been placed gingerly in front of her desk. Santana stepped forward cautiously, her brow furrowed and eyes narrowed as she sat down in the chair. She wasn't unfamiliar with being called into Sue's office, but the woman had an intensity about her that made virtually every student in the school terrified. Santana wasn't scared of Sue, but that didn't mean she enjoyed being scolded or lectured by the cheerleading coach.<em>

_"It's come to my attention that we're nearing the end of your high school career," Sue said as she opened a red folder in front of her._

_"A few more months, yeah," Santana nodded._

_"Thought about what you're going to do?" Sue said, raising a brow as she folded her hands together and rested them on her desk._

_"I mean, yeah, a little bit," Santana said, nodding her head lightly. "I want to go to college, I just haven't really gotten a chance to talk to my parents. They're like, never home-"_

_"That's your own problem," Sue cut her off._

* * *

><p>"Your cheer coach wasn't very nice," I said quietly.<p>

"Understatement of the century," Tina frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "She's incredibly crass and mean. And racist."

"One time, she destroyed a piano Tina and I were at because she thought we were playing the national anthem from 'whatever country' we're from-" Mike's expression matched the one Tina wore.

"We were playing Chopsticks," Tina scowled.

"In her defense, it is called _Chopsticks_," Santana giggled.

"It's not funny!" Tina shouted. I started laughing too. "We're American citizens...!"

* * *

><p><em>"Is there a reason you called me here?" Santana said, furrowing her brow and shifting uncomfortably in her seat.<em>

_"Because as _thrilling_ as it is having you point out that I'll just fall victim to racial stereotypes and not go anywhere with my life, I do have more important things to be doing." Santana moved to stand up, but Sue quickly pointed back at the chair._

_"Sit down, Santana," Sue said firmly and passed her a sheet of paper. She knew that since Sue had used her actual name rather than 'Sweater-meat' or 'Boobs McGee' that this was serious. She sat back down and took the paper from Sue quizzically._

_"As you know, Ohio State University has talent scouts that come every year to observe the football team. Well, they also scout out talent for their cheerleading squad."_

_Santana looked down at the piece of paper and her brow furrowed. Her eyes slowly slid away from the paper to look back up at Sue._

_"Is this a joke?" Santana said._

_"You're co-captain of the Cheerios," Sue said, twisting in her chair and tossing a red rubber ball against the wall before catching it again. "Two years ago, you took over for Fabray and helped lead us to Nationals. Despite _last year's_ mishap, you've been a model example of what it means to be a Cheerio. Popular, head of the social ladder, and you even get decent grades - something that surprises even me."_

_"I'll ignore that last statement," Santana sighed. "Is this for real?"_

_"If we place at Nationals," Sue nodded. "They have a scout coming, and they're interested specifically in you."_

_Santana leaned back and dropped her hands in her lap. The paper crinkled under the weight of her hands and rustled against her knee._

_"I don't even know if Ohio State offers the major I want," Santana said quietly._

_"Don't know, don't care," Sue said. "Now get out of my office."_

* * *

><p>"You got offered a full ride to Ohio State?" I sat up. Santana shifted as I moved and looked up at me.<p>

"Mm, I had the opportunity to go there. Spoiler, Ohio State didn't have the major I wanted," Santana said. "Well, they have a music department, but... it wasn't what I really wanted to do."

"Your parents wanted you to go to Ohio State, though, right? I mean, they were thrilled because it has a really good law program," Tina said.

"I'm getting there, will you stop giving everything away?" Santana frowned.

"I just want to know about Quinn," I murmured. Santana smiled sheepishly and patted my head.

* * *

><p><em>"What's with your face?" Quinn said, looking up from her locker.<em>

* * *

><p>"Finally!" Tina and I said at the same time.<p>

"Fucking stop interrupting!" Santana shouted.

* * *

><p><em>"Nothing," Santana said sharply as she shoved her binder in her own locker. Quinn stretched forward, trying to reach something from within the metal compartment but was struggling to reach it. Santana shut her locker door and leaned over to hand the book to the wheelchair bound blonde.<em>

_"Thanks," Quinn said quietly. Santana nodded and closed Quinn's locker before walking around and grabbing the handles of Quinn's wheelchair and pushed her forward. They hadn't spoken one-on-one about the accident yet, and Quinn had been back a week already._

_"Seriously, what's wrong?" Quinn looked up at Santana and smiled. The Latina gave her a weak smile from above her and shook her head._

_"My 'rents are giving me crap about Ohio State," Santana shrugged. "Not really crap. They're really excited."_

_"That's unusual," Quinn commented. Santana stopped as they arrived outside._

_"Yeah, they normally don't give a damn," Santana spat. She stood there silent for a moment. Quinn had been the first person Santana told about the scholarship opportunity. The blonde had been ecstatic for her, but at the same time, they both weren't talking about the fact that if Santana decided to go to Ohio State, it would cement their eminent separation for the next four years._

_"Do you have Cheerios practice today?" Quinn asked, breaking the silence._

_"No, actually," Santana shook her head. "We have Nationals this weekend, so Coach wants us to rest."_

_"That's so weird," Quinn said._

_"I know. It probably has something to do with her hormones," Santana rolled her eyes. "Plus, she's been really preoccupied with Booty Camp."_

_"Well, you need to pick up her slack," Quinn said. "If you want that scholarship."_

_"Yeah..." Santana sighed softly. "Hey, do you wanna come over tonight?"_

_"And do what? Watch more Sweet Valley High? I hate that show."_

_"We can do something else," Santana frowned. It upset her that Quinn didn't understand how _good_ that show was._

_"You say that, but you'll just end up taking advantage of the fact I can't walk out of the room," Quinn laughed. Santana winced, but Quinn didn't see it. "Yeah, let's hang out. If you do win Nationals, I won't get to see you that often when I go to Yale. I want to make the best of the time we have."_

_"Don't talk like that," Santana murmured._

* * *

><p>"Quinn was going to go to Yale? I thought you both went to NYU?"<p>

Santana looked up at me with an annoyed expression, but softened when her eyes met mine.

"She transferred," Tina said. "The program just wasn't for her."

"Psh, she just missed me too much," Santana shrugged and then winked at me.

* * *

><p><em>"Hey, Quinn?" Santana said, sitting up from laying on the bed. As Quinn had predicted, they were sprawled out on her bed with a huge bowl of popcorn watching Sweet Valley High on Santana's laptop. Well, Santana was. Quinn was reading a book. She set down the book face down on her stomach as she looked up at Santana and rose a brow.<em>

_"Do you think I'd make a good lawyer?" Santana asked._

_"No," Quinn giggled. "You would just get angry and start shouting in Spanish or curse at everyone."_

_Santana frowned and threw a small handful of popcorn at Quinn. The blonde tried her best to avoid the downpour of fluffy puff balls, but couldn't quite avoid it because of her legs. Santana rolled onto her stomach and stared up at Quinn as the blonde dusted off her chest and lap clear._

_"What are you going to do at Yale?"_

_"I'm going to wait a semester or two before declaring a major," Quinn said. "My admissions advisor said that I have to set up an audition before I can get into any of the acting classes. And I want to wait until I'm recovered for that, so I'm just going to focus on my general education classes for now."_

_Santana pursed her lips and let her gaze fall away from Quinn's face._

_"Santana, I'm going to walk again," Quinn said reassuringly. "I've already regained some feeling. Go on, pinch me."_

_"I'm not going to pinch you," Santana said quietly._

_"What, are you afraid you'll hurt me?" Quinn laughed. Santana's eyes flicked back up to see Quinn's smile._

_"No," Santana mumbled._

_"I'm going to be okay, Santana," Quinn said, leaning forward as best she could and brushing Santana's hair out of her face. "I'm sorry. You must have been really worried."_

_Santana nodded slowly and then slid her chin against the comforter to bury her face into the blankets. Quinn's smile faded and she lowered her hand to rest on Santana's hand. She couldn't reach the Latina enough to pull her into a hug._

_"C'mere, Santana," Quinn said, squeezing her palm against Santana's wrist. The Latina sniffled and slowly scooted up so that Quinn could wrap her arms around her._

_"I-I'm sorry," Santana said. "I-I t-tried to visit."_

_"I know you did, it's okay," Quinn said, rubbing her palm soothingly against Santana's back. "Look, the worst is over, okay? I'm going to get better. I promise."_

_"What if-"_

_"There isn't a what if," Quinn said sternly. "I'm going to walk across that stage at Graduation."_

_Santana nodded quietly._

_"Seriously, pinch me," Quinn laughed. Santana started shaking as she laughed too._

_"I believe you," Santana said, sitting up and resting her head on Quinn's shoulder. They sat for a while, absentmindedly staring at the screen of Santana's laptop. The episode had ended, and the screen was black, but neither of them moved to switch to the next episode. Not that Quinn could, but she didn't say anything._

_"Santana, you should do what you want to do. Not what your parents want you to do," Quinn said softly as she let her fingers tickle through the Latina's hair._

_"I applied to NYU," Santana whispered. Quinn straightened a little, forcing Santana to sit up._

_"When?"_

_"Ages ago," Santana sighed. "I got a letter this morning."_

_"Wow, really?" Quinn smiled. "What did it say?"_

_"I'm on a waiting list. They want me to resubmit my audition tape for reevaluation."_

_"Audition tape? What program did you apply to?" Quinn said, furrowing her brow._

_"The Recorded Music program," Santana said, laying down to rest her head against Quinn's lap. They were silent again for a while. Quinn stroked her hand through Santana's hair and the Latina sighed somewhat contently._

_"Have you talked to your parents?"_

_"No," Santana said, keeping her eyes closed._

* * *

><p>"You guys seemed really close back then," I said. "More so than now." Santana laughed and nodded.<p>

"Quinn's been my best friend since freshmen year of high school," Santana said.

"They were a lot meaner to each other back then, too, though," Tina said. "Don't let her fool you with this story. She's cutting out the fights they had."

"We didn't have any fights," Santana rolled her eyes.

"Yeah? With you two competing in Cheerios all that time? And then there was Puck-" Tina waved her hand in the air.

"Okay, so we had our disagreements," Santana said. "But none of that matters now. I'm going to jump to after Nationals."

"Oh good," I said. "Because this is taking forever."

"Shut up," Santana said, shoving me lightly and then resting her head on my shoulder. "It would go faster if you didn't keep interjecting with commentary."

"Questions," I clarified. "Because you're bad at telling stories."

* * *

><p><em>Santana closed her locker and turned confidently down the hallway. There was a banner streaming from the ceiling that read, "Congratulations Cheerios! 1st Place at Nationals!" Even though it had been there all week, when the Latina caught sight of it, she smirked and hugged her binder tightly to her chest as she walked proudly in her cheer uniform. She hadn't taken but two steps more when two girls dressed identical to her stepped forward and tossed cups in her face. It registered a split second before the ice cold slush splashed into her face what was happening.<em>

_"Holy fucking shit!" Santana screamed, flinging her binder away from her body. "What the fuck?"_

_"You're done, Lopez," one of them shouted._

_The girls ran off down the hallway as red slushie dripped down Santana's front. She couldn't see and the ice was not only staining her Cheerio uniform but also seeping down underneath it from her neckline and running down against her bare skin of her chest. She blindly reached down for her binder when a strong arm pulled her upright and dragged her aside to the girls bathroom. Santana wiped her arm over her face and blearily looked up to see Mercedes gripping her arm and holding her binder in her other hand._

_"What the shit," Santana spat as she leaned over the sink and splashed water in her face. Mercedes moved to grab a fist full of paper towels from the dispenser and handed them to the Latina._

_"We've all been slushied, Santana," Mercedes shrugged, leaning against the wall. "It happens to the best of us."_

_"Not to me," Santana spat. "Not by other Cheerios. I'm _co-captain._ I run this place."_

_"You haven't heard?" Mercedes asked cautiously._

_"Heard what?" Santana asked, looking up from the sink._

_"Rumor has it that they're already talking about the new cheer captain for next year," Mercedes said. "Nationals is over, Santana - you won, but you're not coming back."_

_"So? I'm a god damn senior," Santana said, drying her face with a bunched up clump of the paper towels. "That means something. I'm one of the most popular kids in school. I manage that even with Glee club."_

_"Santana, you know how people part in the hallways when you walk down them?" Mercedes said quietly._

_"Yeah, that's because people _respect _me," Santana said, dabbing at her chest with the rest of the paper towels._

_"They run because they're terrified of you, not because they respect you," Mercedes said quietly. "I guess they figured if they only have another month or so to deal with you, they shouldn't bother being afraid anymore."_

_"People love me," Santana scoffed._

_"Santana, do you even care about any of them?"_

_Santana hesitated and looked up at Mercedes. She bit her lip and looked down at the floor._

_"Santana, who do you consider friends at this school?"_

_"Quinn," Santana said immediately. "And well, like... the Glee club."_

_"Then what does it matter if they don't tremble in your presence or you don't get invited to parties and stuff?" Mercedes asked, raising a brow. Santana straightened and shot a glare over to Mercedes._

_"What party?"_

_"The one at Azimio's," Mercedes said. "Like, all the Cheerios were there. Even Quinn got invited."_

_"Were you there?" Santana spat. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't Quinn?"_

_"She didn't go," Mercedes said and pushed off the wall. "And I honestly thought you were just going to show up fashionably late or something."_

_"No, I get it," Santana spat. "Obviously, no one at this school gives a damn about me."_

_"Santana, I didn't know you didn't know about it," Mercedes said, stepping forward to catch Santana's arm._

_"Like you care," Santana said, pulling her arm away. "Well screw you. I'm done with this place. This is bullshit."_

_"Santana-"_

* * *

><p>"She didn't show up to Glee club that day," Tina said. "Everyone thought she quit."<p>

"I was being immature," Santana sighed.

"You just realized everyone had a different opinion of you than you thought," I said softly. "You were upset."

"It meant nothing," Santana shrugged. "Being popular. I didn't gain any friends from it."

"You had Quinn," I reminded her.

"Quinn grew up a lot faster than me," Santana said. "Faster than all of us."

* * *

><p><em>"You're being really stupid," Quinn said, wheeling up to Santana at her locker. Santana was dressed in her regular clothes instead of her cheer uniform.<em>

_"Yeah? Are we still even friends?"__Santana spat as she slammed her locker closed._

_"I can't believe you'd even ask me that," Quinn said aggressively. "Of course we're friends."_

_"Then why didn't you tell me?" Santana said. "About the party?"_

_"Because it's a dumb high school party where all anyone plans to do is get wasted," Quinn said angrily. "And I had physical therapy all afternoon!"_

_"Yeah? Well, you still got invited," Santana growled, spinning around and storming down the hallway. "The girl in the wheelchair gets invited over the cheer captain. Jesus Christ."_

_"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Quinn shouted, wheeling after her. Santana turned and stomped up the stairwell to her right._

_"Mature, Santana," Quinn said, from the base of the stairs. "Very mature."_

* * *

><p>"Did you know Quinn was able to stand up at the physical therapy session she went to that Friday?" Tina asked.<p>

"I found out later," Santana nodded. "I felt horrible about it. I was being such a bitch."

"You're not a bitch," I said, wrapping my arm around her.

"Oh, no, I was," Santana said softly. "I should have been there."

* * *

><p><em>"Oh, Santana," Rachel said, stopping short as she stepped into the auditorium. "I didn't know you'd be here - I thought you quit Glee club."<em>

_"I just skipped yesterday," Santana frowned, stepping off the stage._

_"What were you singing?" Rachel asked._

_"None of your business, Berry," Santana said, shrugging her backpack onto her shoulder._

_"I'm glad you didn't quit Glee," Rachel said, spinning around as Santana walked past her. "Mercedes was really worried. We have a big Troubletones number for nationals you guys need to work on."_

_The Latina stopped short._

_"So even in Glee club, the only thing anyone cares about is my voice, not even my well-being?" Santana snapped._

_"That's not what I said, Santana," Rachel mumbled quietly._

_"It's what you meant," Santana sneered as she turned around to glare at Rachel._

_"Santana, we _are_ your friends. You know that," Rachel said insistently. "We all really missed you yesterday."_

_"Whatever," Santana said._

_"You know, I never get invited to parties," Rachel said, sitting down in one of the auditorium seats. "But I think it's more fun to just hang out with friends and people that care about you."_

_Santana stood there and stared at Rachel for a moment until the brunette turned around and pulled out a folder from her binder._

_"Quinn isn't mad at you, by the way," Rachel said. "She knows you're just upset. About school and about your parents."_

_"What do you know about my parents?" Santana asked, sliding into a seat a few rows behind Rachel._

_"That you haven't told them you're auditioning for the ReMu program at NYU," Rachel said. "Was that what you were working on?"_

_"...maybe," Santana said quietly._

_"Your pitch was a little off," Rachel said. "For that song, anyway. I think you should pick something that features your range and talent. If you sang Valerie or Back to Black, it would be really good."_

_"I sang those before," Santana frowned._

_"So?" Rachel turned in her seat to look up at Santana. "If you want, I can help you pick a song you haven't sung."_

_"...yeah, okay," Santana nodded._

_"You should make up with Quinn," Rachel suggested. "She was really upset today."_

_"I'll talk to her at Glee club," Santana said, standing up. She paused and glanced back. "Thanks for your help, Rachel."_

* * *

><p>"Ah, I remember the days when Quinn and you would call her 'Man Hands,'" Tina sighed, leaning into Mike as she reminisced. "Look how far you've come."<p>

"Are we ever going to get to the point where you explain the whole deal with Quinn and the graduation party?" I asked. I was laying in her lap and she'd been playing with my hair as she told the story. I liked hearing her talk, mostly because her voice was soothing, but also because I was learning a lot about her. But she was making me sleepy by scratching her fingers against my head.

"Yes, I'll skip forward, okay?" Santana said softly, smiling down at me. I was glad she had calmed down enough to smile. "Alright, so... we won Nationals for glee club, and Rachel helped me with my audition tape. Quinn and I made up, and she was able to walk across the stage at Graduation."

"That's awesome," I smiled. "I knew she was going to recover."

"Well, duh," Santana laughed. I wrinkled my nose at her and smiled.

* * *

><p><em>"Now that I'm here, the party has officially started," Santana said, jumping down the last three steps into Rachel's basement. There were drinks laid out across a fold out table and everyone in the room was either dancing or chatting excitedly to one another. Sam grinned and passed Santana a plastic cup, and she took a big gulp from it before scampering towards her favorite blonde.<em>

_"Hey Q," Santana said, pinching her side as she approached from behind. Quinn smiled and side-stepped as she turned to Santana._

_"Mm, Santana," Quinn laughed, wrapping her arm around the Latina and giving her a tight hug. "We made it!"_

_"Of course we did," Santana grinned._

_"Will the graduating class of 2012 please step up to the stage-" Artie shouted as he pointed towards the mock stage set up that only Rachel's basement could provide._

* * *

><p>"She has a stage? In her house?" I interjected.<p>

"It's _Rachel_," Santana sighed.

* * *

><p><em>"Santana, how much have you had to drink?" Quinn giggled. Santana wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist and pressed her cheek against Quinn's side as she swayed back and forth to the music.<em>

_"A lot," she shouted louder than she needed in order to be heard over the music._

_"-Tina, I'm not breaking up with you," Mike said, causing Quinn and Santana to look over to the corner of the room._

_"Y-yes, you are," Tina stammered. "You just said-"_

_"-I just thought it would be better- Wait, Tina," Mike said, raising his hands up to catch her as she tore away from him. She raced up the stairs of the basement. Puck stepped forward and shook his head for Mike to stay put._

* * *

><p>"I was wondering if that was going to come up," Mike said quietly.<p>

"It's okay, babe," Tina said, leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek. "Don't feel bad. It happened, but it doesn't define us."

"I love you," Mike said, wrinkling his nose as he pulled her close to him. I let my head tilt to rest on Santana's head and let out a soft sigh.

* * *

><p><em>"What was that about?" Santana murmured.<em>

_"I don't know," Quinn said. "We should check on Tina, c'mon."_

_Quinn grabbed Santana's hand and pulled her towards the stairwell. The drunk Latina stumbled, but Quinn helped to steady her. Once upstairs, Quinn looked around and lead Santana across the kitchen and up to a second stairwell._

_"Where do you think she went?" Quinn asked._

_"I don't know," Santana mumbled. "Rachel's house is _fucking_ confusing."_

_"Here, come on, maybe she went up to Rachel's room," Quinn said. "It's the only other room I think any of us have been in."_

_"Makes sense," Santana nodded and let Quinn pull her up the last set of stairs up to Rachel's room._

_"I guess she's not here," Quinn said, peering into the bedroom. Santana slumped into the blonde._

_"Oh, Santana, no don't," Quinn grumbled. She managed to catch Santana and stumble into Rachel's room, but her knees started to quiver. "Please, stand up, Santana. I can't hold you up."_

_Santana wobbled back to her feet, holding fast to Quinn's arms. The Latina murmured something incoherently and Quinn laughed and helped her to sit on Rachel's bed._

_"You're completely drunk," Quinn smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of Santana's face. "And useless."_

_"I'm not useless," Santana said quietly. She leaned into Quinn and sighed. "Just tired."_

_"Do you want me to take you home?" Quinn asked. "I'll walk you."_

_"I'm fine. You shouldn't over do it. The walking thing," Santana mumbled into her shoulder. She squirmed and wiggled a little closer to Quinn, wrapping her arm around the blonde's waist. Her fingers began to tickle up over Quinn's dress and Quinn froze when Santana's lips brushed against her neck._

_"Santana," Quinn mumbled, leaning back. The Latina inched forward and kissed her neck again. Quinn squirmed out from underneath Santana's grasp and rose to her feet._

_"W-we're not in Cheerios anymore, Santana," Quinn said softly. "I don't know if you're into that, or whatever, but for me it was just for hazing."_

_"...sorry," Santana murmured as she collapsed on the bed. Her face was pressed to the mattress._

_"It's okay," Quinn sighed. "You're drunk." Santana didn't move. Quinn nudged her, but she remained where she was, laying on her stomach with her face pressed to the bed._

_"I'm going to go look for Tina, okay?"_

_"Mm," Santana said._

* * *

><p>"And that, my friends, is 'the Quinn thing'," Santana said with a shrug.<p>

"You tried to kiss Quinn?" I asked. I glanced at Mike and Tina, and Mike looked as surprised as I felt. Tina didn't.

"...I had this annoying crush on her," Santana admitted sheepishly. "I knew it was one-sided. I couldn't help it."

"Did you guys ever kiss? What did she mean by Cheerios?" I frowned as I sat up a little. Santana twisted and looked at me.

"Are you jealous?" Santana smiled.

"No," I said, puffing out my lower lip.

"I've never kissed Quinn, no," Santana shook her head. "Just tried to, that one time."

"She was really upset by that," Tina said. "When Quinn rejected her advances."

"How do you know that?" Santana said, looking up at her. "That's all I remember from that party."

"You didn't kiss Quinn that night," Tina said quietly. "...you kissed me."

"Wait, hold up," Mike said, pulling away from her. Both Santana and I gaped at her.

* * *

><p><em>Tina stumbled into Rachel's room. Quinn led her in after finding her in the bathroom. How much time had passed since she left Santana alone was unknown, but the Latina hadn't moved from her crumpled position on the bed.<em>

_"Are you going to be okay?" Quinn asked._

_"Mm," Tina nodded, sniffling._

_"Things will work out, okay?" Quinn said, brushing her hand softly against Tina's cheek. "I'm going to go downstairs and let Rachel know what's going on, okay? I'll be back once I've figured out how we're getting you and Santana home. Maybe Rachel will just let you two spend the night."_

_"Y-yeah, okay," Tina nodded. Quinn stood up and slowly left the room. Tina twisted and looked down at Santana._

_"I'm so glad you're asleep," Tina let out a half cry, half laugh. "You'd make so much fun of me right now."_

_"No, I wouldn't," Santana mumbled. Tina jumped when Santana spoke. The Latina slid her face against the mattress and looked up. Her eyes were a bit red, and her makeup was smudged. She sat up and wiped her palm over her eyes and sniffled._

_"Are you okay?" Tina asked, her brow knitting together._

_"You're worse," Santana shook her head. "I'm sorry about Mike."_

_"It's okay," Tina shrugged. "Why were you crying? Quinn said you passed out."_

_"I'm just stupid," Santana shook her head. "It's dumb."_

_"You're not. What happened?"_

_"I just," Santana sighed. "I thought I liked someone and they liked me back. I was wrong."_

_"It's okay to be upset about that," Tina said softly. "That doesn't make you stupid."_

_"It does when they're a girl," Santana mumbled under her breath._

_"A girl?" Tina said, her eyes widening in surprise. "Santana, who? Are you?"_

_"Ugh," Santana let herself fall onto her back and into the mattress. She groaned loudly. "I don't know. Maybe? Just, whatever."_

_Tina laid down next to Santana and stared up at the ceiling. Santana didn't move or speak again, she just looked up at the star-covered ceiling of Rachel Berry's bedroom. After a while, her brow furrowed and she grimaced._

_"Does Rachel really have stars all over her ceiling?" Santana asked._

_"At least they're arranged astronomically. I think that one is the big dipper, right?" Tina pointed out. Santana giggled._

_"Did you wanna talk about it? This girl you liked?" Tina said, glancing over at Santana._

_"She made it clear she's not into that," Santana said. "Besides, she's going to Yale in three months anyway."_

_"You liked Quinn?" Tina asked. Santana's eyes widened, and she blushed._

_"Please don't tell her," Santana said. "She just thinks I'm drunk and horny."_

_"You are drunk," Tina muttered._

_"True," Santana laughed. "And I guess horny too."_

_"TMI, Santana," Tina said, swatting at her playfully. Santana caught her hand. Tina twisted to lay on her side. "You know this is like the first decent conversation you've had with me?"_

_"No," Santana said, frowning. "I didn't. Really?"_

_"Yeah," Tina shrugged. "So, have you actually kissed a girl before?"_

_"Cheerios hazing, sure," Santana nodded. "Not that that means anything."_

_"Mm," Tina nodded. Santana inched closer to her._

_"Would it be okay if I kissed you?" Santana asked quietly. Tina smiled weakly._

_"...I guess."_

_Santana sat up a little and leaned forward. Tina closed her eyes tightly as the Latina made contact with her lips. They held there for a moment, and then Santana lifted her hand to cup Tina's cheek and pull her a little closer. She parted her lips a little bit and sucked on Tina's lower lip, humming softly as she did so. Tina inched a little closer and deepened the kiss, until they heard voices in the hallway. They shot apart, and laid flat on their backs as the voices passed Rachel's room. It sounded like Puckerman, but they weren't sure who the other voice was, it just sounded like giggling._

_"That was... really hot," Santana murmured sheepishly. Tina laughed._

_"Are you even going to remember that tomorrow?" Tina glanced over to her._

_"No," Santana snorted. "Does that mean you won't mind if I do it again?"_

* * *

><p>Mike stared at Tina, his mouth hanging open slightly. He looked completely in shock and at a loss for words. I turned and looked at Santana. She had her hand pressed to her forehead and was shaking her head slowly back and forth.<p>

"Mike, I'm...so sorry," Santana whispered. "I had no idea."

"It's..." Mike managed to say one word before shaking his head. "I-"

"You made out with Tina?" I snapped. Tina and Mike jolted, and Santana shot up in surprise.

"I didn't know!" Santana said quickly. "I swear to god-"

"I'm kidding," I giggled, tickling my fingers against her stomach. She exhaled sharply and smiled as I pulled her into a hug. I glanced over her shoulder at Tina and narrowed my eyes. She looked down at the ground sheepishly as Mike crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.

"Santana blacked out," Mike said. "You have no excuse."

"You broke up with me," Tina snapped. His mouth hung open and Santana started snickering against my shoulder.

"This isn't funny, Santana!" Tina barked.

"Oh, it's funny. It's funny if you thi-" Mike paused. Santana's shoulders shook against me and I couldn't help but laugh too. He looked at us as Santana rolled a little in my arms and I leaned into her to keep from falling off the bed. Mike's expression softened and he wrapped his arm over Tina's shoulder and pulled her closer to him.

"Whatever, it's in the past, right?" he said, pressing his lips to her forehead. She closed one eye and pouted. "I'm just glad we worked things out. But you're still in trouble for not telling me."

"That would have outed Santana," Tina shook her head. "I wasn't going to tell anyone unless she was okay with it."

"Says the girl that's been sneaking around making me kiss Brittany every time I swear," Santana snapped up and grabbed the nearest thing to her, in this case a pillow, and tossing it across the beds and at Tina "And collaborating with Fabray, collecting photos."

"How did you know about Operation Lady Pants?" Tina gasped, pushing the pillow away that had hit her in the face.

"That's a terrible code name," Santana frowned.

"Operation Sweet Lady Kisses would have been better," I said, wrinkling my nose at Santana. She blushed and swatted at me gently.

"That _is_ a better name," Tina frowned.

"Wait," Santana snapped upright. "Does... does Quinn know?"

"I don't know," Tina shrugged. "What would she 'know' exactly? Do you even know what you two are doing?"

Santana froze again, and I saw the familiar dread flash in her eyes that she had had earlier. I leaned forward and grabbed her hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her head jolted back a little and she looked down at my hand.

"She doesn't know," Tina said quietly. "But she's definitely suspicious. And concerned."

"Why concerned?" I asked, looking up.

"Because you live together," Tina said. "You're supposed to be roommates... not... whatever this is."

Whatever this was. I looked up at Santana. She was still holding my hand, staring at it quietly. I wanted to know what she was thinking. She looked like a million cogs were spinning in her head. If I had to guess, she was replaying the last few weeks in her head. Did she regret it? I felt my heart sink at the thought.

"D-do I have to move out?" I asked. Santana's head snapped up and she stared at me like I was crazy.

"No," she said quickly and squeezed my hand tightly. "No, that's not... I want you to stay." Santana looked like she was going to cry again, so I wrapped my arms around her. "Y-you said you weren't going anywhere."

My brow furrowed. I didn't remember saying that. Wait, was she talking about before?

"I'm not," I said as she nuzzled her face against my collarbone. I lifted my hand to tilt her chin up so I could kiss her forehead. "I'm right here."

"I didn't mean you had to move out, Brittany," Tina said quietly. "I just don't think it's a good idea for you two to be so close all the time. It's not good for a relationship."

Santana peeled away from me and looked up at Tina.

"I know you said you don't know what's going on between you two," Tina nodded at us. "All the more reason you need some space."

Santana's hands gripped tighter and bunched up a bit of her NYU hoodie that I was wearing. I looked down and saw the scared look return to her eyes.

"What are you suggesting, exactly?" I whispered.

"Mike will swap with you, Brittany," Tina said, patting the double bed they were seated on. Mike straightened a little and looked down at her.

"I don't get a say in this?" he frowned.

"Would you rather Santana share a bed with me?" Tina rose her brow.

"No!" Mike and I shouted in unison. Santana giggled.

"I'm not going to kiss your girlfriend," Santana said to Mike as she leaned into me. I smiled.

"What about Brittany?" Mike said.

"Are you going to try and kiss me, Brittany?" Tina asked. I shook my head.

"Nope," I said, squeezing my arms tighter around Santana. "I have someone I like."

* * *

><p>Tina and Mike left Santana and I so that I could grab my things. I think they also just wanted to give us some alone time, after such a traumatizing conversation. Santana was fixing the bed covers as I picked through my clothes that she had tossed around the room. I eventually found my shirt, but Santana hugged me from behind when I stood up to take her hoodie off.<p>

"Keep it on," she said, tugging at the bottom of her hoodie and pulling it back down.

"But it's yours," I said quietly. She let go of me and knelt down to pick up Jeremy. She fluffed him a few times and then pressed him into my stomach.

"I know," she smiled, looking down at the ground timidly. "But if you have to sleep without me, at least you can wear my hoodie."

"Then, you keep Jeremy," I said, pressing him back into her hands. She held him for a moment, gripping him tightly and staring down at his black embroidered eyes. I felt like we were back to square one. She looked as uncertain as I felt. Could I...? Should I...? I wasn't sure what to do, but my hand moved up instinctively to cup her cheek. She smiled weakly and pressed gently against it.

"Santana," I mumbled. I leaned forward, but just as I did so, she turned to place Jeremy on the bed. I wavered a second and then stepped back. I didn't know if she had done that intentionally to avoid me kissing her, but it still made my chest hurt a little. I dipped down and scooped up the pile of my things I had made.

"Goodnight, Santana," I said softly as I stepped over the suitcase and headed towards the door between our hotel rooms. Before I could move any further, however, I was pulled back into a tight hug from behind. Santana nuzzled her face against my neck.

"Britt..." Santana whispered. I leaned my head against hers and held there, until the door opened and Mike stepped in. He froze, staring wide-eyed at us for a second. Santana sighed and let her hands drop from around me. I wanted to stay so badly. But maybe Tina was right. I was really confused about how Santana felt. How I felt.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

"Alright," I nodded, turning to glance at her. She smiled weakly and took my hand to wring it lightly.

"G'night, Britt."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: My beta and I debated for a long time about the formatting, because of the limitations FF has and how exactly to portray the interjected commentary. The only thing we could think of was to make a long series of flash backs divided up by the page breakers, but I'm sorry if it seems distracting. Without them, however, the italics just looked weird and it made reading the chapter very difficult.**

**Anyway, sorry for the hiatus. I'm back on track, I think. Maybe. Still iffy about what happens in the next few chapters after the next two or so.**


	27. Better than Dreaming

"Don't look at me like that," Tina said as I dropped my things at the foot of the bed. I blinked. I was looking at her like what?

"You look like a kicked puppy," Tina frowned, moving a pillow to the other side of the bed. Mike and Tina had a huge king sized bed. I was pretty sure Santana would have been jealous. I climbed onto the bed and crawled onto my side of the bed as Tina moved to lock the door between our rooms. I felt my lip puff out a little more and I knew I was pouting.

"As much as I am glad you two like each other, you need boundaries," Tina said quietly as she climbed in next to me. I rolled on my side away from her.

"That's not why I'm mad at you," I huffed, crossing my arms and squeezing them close to my chest.

"You're mad at me?" Tina said. I couldn't see her, but her voice cracked a little. I could picture she probably had her face scrunched up with concern or worry.

"Yes," I said quietly. I didn't realize I was mad until just now. "You didn't have to yell at her."

Tina fell silent and, from what I could tell, was motionless. I twisted in the bed to look over at her and give her my best glare, but then I saw the sad and tired expression on her face. I shifted to lay fully on my back and stared up at the ceiling.

"I know," Tina said as she laid down on her back, too. "It's just... Santana is my best friend. But when you see your friend making bad or stupid decisions-"

"Santana is not stupid," I said sternly. I kept my eyes trained on the spot I'd found in the ceiling, because otherwise I think I would have done or said something I would regret if I looked at Tina.

"-she's not, you're right," Tina nodded. "But she's been bottling this up for years - who knows how long before I found out. But she wasn't being herself. She was hurting a lot and made a lot of bad decisions. I didn't want to let her make you another one of those bad decisions."

My brow furrowed. The spot on the ceiling wasn't helping keep my emotions stable. I didn't want to be one of Santana's bad decisions. I didn't even think she made them. But I didn't know whether we were still going to be what we were. This whole keeping separated thing was making me more anxious and nervous than it was supposed to be helping. I just needed to be with Santana. Even if we didn't talk, I knew that just being with her would help me figure her out.

I felt a little wetness on my cheek and I twisted to my side again so that Tina didn't see. I guess she meant well, but I was still upset.

"Brittany," Tina whispered softly. I felt her hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged her off. I didn't want her to console me. I wanted to be with Santana.

"You think Santana makes bad decisions all the time. She doesn't." I tried to whisper, but it came out harsh and louder than I intended.

"You didn't know her before-"

"I know her now," I said sternly.

Tina fell silent.

"I don't like that you kissed her," I said quietly.

"Brittany, that didn't mean anything-"

"Exactly," I said. "She was drunk, and you were upset. Maybe she's not the one that makes bad decisions."

"I-" Tina paused and let out a deep breath. "Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't have let it happen... Maybe I thought I was helping. I don't know."

"Why do you think she's making a bad decision? With me?" I lifted my hand to swipe against my cheek.

"I don't, Brittany..." Tina sounded exasperated. I was accustomed to the tone of her voice. My whole life people had talked to me like that. Like they were talking down to me. I was just a little surprised; I hadn't heard it in a while.

"Then what?" I snapped. I slapped my palm against the mattress and twisted to look at Tina. "What's wrong with her liking me?"

"Absolutely nothing," Tina said, her brow furrowing. "Brittany, please don't misunderstand me. You two are good for each other, really. Just... don't you think it seems rushed?"

I stared blankly at Tina before shifting back to my back. I exhaled slowly, trying to get my heart to stop beating so quickly. I tugged on the covers a little to pull them up to my chest as I looked back up at the ceiling.

"Honestly? No," I said quietly. "I...kinda feel like it didn't happen fast enough."

"What do you mean?" Tina said, sitting up. I glanced at her and felt myself sigh.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Like, when you fall, it happens before you can do anything to stop it, right?"

"Sometimes you catch yourself," Tina said.

"I feel like I've been falling off a million story high building," I said. "And at some point you just decide, okay. You're falling. But it's okay, because it's kind of like you're just moving in slow motion. And you forget you're going to hit the ground eventually."

I could feel Tina staring at me again, so I looked up. Her brow was knit together and her lips were pursed like she had words she wanted to say, but they were all the wrong ones or she couldn't connect them together to form a sentence.

"I thought maybe I was just floating," I said softly. "But I guess not."

"...you like her a lot, don't you?" Tina whispered. The mattress shifted a bit under her weight as she laid back down on her pillow.

"...Mm," I hummed after a long pause. I was exhausted, and Tina asking me questions was a little annoying. I knew she meant well, but it wasn't helping ease my mind or anything. I just wanted to sleep so that tomorrow would come faster.

"So-"

"-You're not going to ask me about our sex life, are you?"

"Brittany!" Tina gasped. "Inappropriate."

"I figured that would shut you up," I murmured, twisting to my side as I smirked lightly.

"Sorry," she sighed.

* * *

><p>"I don't understand how Tina is the one that kisses you, and I get put in the dog house," Mike said, pulling the blankets back on the second double bed as he flopped down into it.<p>

"Let's revolt," Santana said, sitting up from her bed. "Boycott Tina's tyrannic crusade against Sweet Lady Kisses...!"

Mike looked over to Santana's bed and saw she wasn't even looking at him. She was sitting with her legs folded over one another in a cross-legged position, bouncing Jeremy in her lap. It looked like she was talking to the pillow pet more than she was talking to Mike.

"Um... Santana?"

Santana looked up and blushed. She dropped Jeremy in her lap and squashed him with her hands in an attempt to conceal him. Mike let out a soft laugh and shook his head.

"Alright, so I have to admit, I had a hard time believing Tina when she said how different you've been lately, but that," Mike nodded towards the purple pillow pet. "Proves it."

Santana grabbed Jeremy and hurled him as hard as she could at him. He ducked, but Jeremy still managed to bounce into his shoulder before rolling softly into the covers. He twisted back around to grab the pillow and hugged it tightly to his chest.

"Mine now," he grinned.

"No!" Santana said, scrambling from underneath the covers. She almost got tangled in them as she jumped off the bed and had to pause a moment to kick them off before turning her attention back to Mike. He rolled over on his bed as Santana tackled him, struggling to force him to release his hold on Jeremy. Mike laughed and twisted again, but she pulled him back. She ended up pinning him to the bed by laying across his stomach full body as she stretched to tear Jeremy out of his outstretched hands. She wiggled off of him, giggling, once Jeremy was back firmly in her grasp and laid down next to Mike.

"He means that much to you?" Mike panted.

"Shut up," Santana said, punching him in the arm. He grinned and rubbed the spot lightly.

"I'm glad you told us," Mike said quietly. "I'm sorry you weren't able to do so completely on your own terms, but it's nice to see you smile again."

Santana relaxed against him and her smile softened a little. She fluffed Jeremy's mane with her fingertips as she held the pillow pet against her stomach with her other hand.

"It was really cool of you to play along," Santana said quietly. "When did you realize it?"

"That last dance class you and Brittany were at," Mike said, lifting his arm up and wrapping it over her head. She lifted up a little so that he could drape it over her shoulder.

"Really? Wow," Santana sighed. "How?"

"You two could barely keep your hands off each other once you convinced her to join in," Mike laughed. "And before that, you were barely paying attention. You kept looking at her in the mirrors."

"Oh god," Santana laughed, lifting her hand to cover her face. "Obviously, we weren't as subtle as I thought."

"Mm, not with all those hickeys," Mike said, squeezing his arm gently around her shoulders. She shoved him lightly in the side and he laughed.

"Still want to revolt?"

"Are you in support of Operation Sweet Lady Kisses or Lady Pants?" Santana said, raising a brow.

"I'm in support of Operation Make Santana Lopez Happy," Mike said, wrapping his other arm around her and pulling her into a tight hug. She loosened her hold on Jeremy as her arms were pressed into her chest. She let her forehead rest on Mike's shoulder and sighed. The hug alone was enough to break the cheerful demeanor she had been hiding behind. She let out a stifled sob, twisting her hands around to clutch at Mike's shirt.

"Santana-"

"I'm okay," Santana nodded against his chest. "I'm scared, but... I have you guys."

"You do," Mike nodded, letting his chin rest on the top of her head. "We've got your back, Santana. ...Do you want me talk to Tina? We can switch the sleeping arrangements."

"N-no," Santana said, sniffling as she shook her head. "Britt's probably asleep. I don't want to wake her."

"Okay," Mike nodded as gently as he could. "C'mon, then. Let's get you to bed as well." He sat up a little and helped her up. Once he had her back in her own bed and under the covers, he picked Jeremy up off his bed and placed him in her hands. He leaned down and gave Santana a small kiss on the forehead.

"Everything is going to be alright, Santana."

* * *

><p><em>I was standing on the stage again, but this time there wasn't an audience. I stepped forward cautiously, looking around. I knew where I was, and was anxiously expecting the faceless dancer to appear at any moment. Maybe if I moved quickly, I would be able to avoid him. I looked up. The birdcage was there, but it was dangling at an angle. It was battered and broken, and the door barely hung open on broken hinges. It was empty.<em>

_I dashed forward, and I opened my mouth, shouting out for Santana. I knew I was shouting, I could feel it in my throat, but the sound came out muffled and distant. I moved towards the space beneath the cage. It was hard to see because there wasn't a lot of stage light, but I saw a dark form crumbled in front of me. As I got closer, I could tell by the curves of her body that it was Santana. _

_Another shout, but my body suddenly felt like it was wading through water. Thick, murky water that wasn't water at all. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, but it looked like smoke was whisking around my body. It grew larger and darker and wrapped further around me. I realized what it was a moment too late, when the thick smog fastened around my mouth and became a hand. My body lurched as I tried to move forward but was held back by the faceless dancer. _

_My body was pulled back and I was forcibly torn in the opposite direction of Santana. I realized the dancer wasn't even holding me anymore. I was moving on my own. I tried to pull my hands away, but then realized smokey black strings were holding my hands up. The dancer spun around and brought his hands to mine and I was puppeted along like a marionette to mirror his movements. I felt myself painfully dip into his arms, my face forced to look down at the battered form of Santana's body. My jaw was clenched tightly, so I couldn't even open it to shout for her. I felt my eyes water as I was pulled away again._

_I kept moving, but every time I was allowed to stop and see my surroundings, I was forced to look at her. It was torture. She had somehow managed to get out of the cage, but she couldn't fly away. _

"Brittany," Tina said and my eyes snapped open. I was twisted in the sheets and my chest was rising and falling heavily. Tina was holding my arms by the wrists, and her hair had fallen in her face, making me snap back a little in fright. She let me go and brushed her hair back, allowing me to see her concerned expression.

"You were having a nightmare," Tina said softly as she sat back and rubbed her arm.

"S-sorry," I muttered. "Did I hit you?"

"I'm fine," Tina nodded. "Are you okay?"

That had been the worst nightmare yet. I think the fact that I knew I had been dreaming and yet still couldn't stop it from happening was the most troubling thing about it. I rolled onto my back and rose my arm to cover my face. I'd always had this nightmare. It was generally sporadic, but always terrifying. I had it more frequently ever since I moved. Ever since I met Santana. But it just got worse and worse now that she had found her way into it.

"Yeah," I said softly. I rolled onto my side, tugging at the collar of Santana's NYU hoodie. I managed to pull the hood up over my head and I brought my knees up to my chest, looking away from Tina. I felt her lay back down.

"Do you want to talk about-"

"No," I cut her off. "Just go back to sleep."

I didn't even want to talk to Santana about it. It was the same _stupid_ dream I'd always had, and it wasn't ever going to go away. I stared blankly out at the edge of the bed. Maybe if I just didn't sleep, I could avoid it.

* * *

><p>Santana rolled over onto her back and smacked her hand against Jeremy restlessly. She sighed audibly and then froze, listening for a reaction from across the room. Mike didn't make any sounds, other than the same soft and constant sounds of his breath as he slept. She tilted her head to the nightstand and then slowly reached forward to grab her phone. Cautiously, she flipped the switch on the side to turn it on silent. It made a soft vibrate sound and she quickly buried it into her blanket and paused again. Still no reaction from Mike.<p>

She exhaled softly and lifted the phone to her face, unlocking it and opening a text message to 'Britt-Britt'. She smiled as she read the last messages. It was from the car ride over.

_Can you send me the photo of us kissing? Pleaaaase~ _ _- Britt-Britt_

_Lol, why?_

_Because I can't kiss you as much as I want to right now. Unless you swear. ;) - Britt-Britt_

Santana smiled and quietly stared at the screen for a moment. Then she tapped at the screen and hit send. She closed her eyes and sighed. A soft buzzing from elsewhere in the room made her brow furrow. Brittany had left her phone in their hotel room after all.

Mike inhaled softly and moved his head against his pillow. He blinked wearily as he dove his hand beneath one of the other pillows and pulled out a very beat up, paint-chipped cell phone. He flipped it open and squinted as he looked at the screen.

_Santana: _

_You awake? Is Tina? I can't sleep. I'm sneaking over, unlock the door._

Mike smiled and closed the phone as he rolled onto his back.

"Can't sleep?" he croaked. "That's odd, coming from you."

"Shit," Santana whispered.

"I won't stop you if you want to go over there," he said groggily, raising his hand to rub his eyes.

"Ugh," Santana groaned. "No, I don't know if Tina's awake."

"So?" Mike said.

"It's fine, I don't want to wake Britt," Santana sighed.

"Alright," Mike nodded. "Do you wanna talk?"

"About what? Why I can't sleep?"

"No, about Brittany," Mike said, tilting his head to look over at Santana. She glanced over to him as well.

"I don't know what to say," Santana said softly.

"Well, tell me about her," Mike smiled. "I don't get to talk with her as much as you guys do, even if I work with her. What do you like about her?"

"Heh," Santana smiled. "How is this going to help me fall asleep?"

"I don't know," Mike laughed. "But it's something to get your mind off of trying to force yourself asleep. So come on. Tell me. What do you like about Brittany?"

"...she's sweet," Santana murmured. "I don't know. Like, her... ugh, don't make me say it."

"You can say whatever you want," Mike said. "I'm not going to judge you."

"Her laugh. Her eyes," Santana said sheepishly. "The way they light up when she's excited. Or how she makes funny faces when no one is looking."

"She does that?" Mike said.

"Mm," Santana giggled. "Especially when she's studying."

"What else?"

"The way she's light on her feet, but somehow still manages to run into things all the time," Santana laughed. "I like the way she thinks. It's different and it bugs the crap out of Quinn. She tries to find the good in people even when they're not good to her."

Santana brought Jeremy back into her arms, placing him squarely on her chest as she stared at his fluffy face. She picked at his fur and ruffled his mane.

"Her nose, because it's cute. Her smile, because no matter how many times she smiles at me, I never know exactly what I did to make her do so," Santana said quietly. "It surprises me every time."

"How long did it take for you to realize you liked her?" Mike said.

"It was ...instantaneous," Santana murmured. She yawned softly and hugged Jeremy closer to her chest.

"Do you want to date her, Santana?"

"What?" Santana's eyes widened and she looked over at Mike. He had shifted to his side and was smiling at her. She blushed, but was thankful the room was dark. Of course, he could probably still tell.

"I don't know," Santana said softly.

"Forget about everyone else," Mike said. "It's just you and her. Does she make you happy?"

"...yes," Santana nodded. She had closed her eyes, but tilted to face him.

"So what's stopping you?" Mike said. "No one else's opinion matters."

"Hers does," Santana whispered.

"Then ask her," Mike laughed. "Simple as that."

"I... don't want to mess things up," Santana said, slowly opening her eyes and looking up at Mike. "I have no idea how she feels right now."

"I'm pretty sure she likes you too," Mike smiled.

"Yeah, well," Santana sighed, rolling onto her back and pressing her fingers on the bridge of her nose. "What if it's not enough?"

"You won't know until you try," Mike said. "I'll tell you what." He shifted up a bit and Santana looked up at him.

"We were supposed to leave first thing tomorrow, but," Mike said as he picked up his cell phone off the bed side table. "How about we push back the drive home a few hours? I'll talk to Tina and we'll arrange it so we can do a double date. We don't have to if you don't want-"

"I like that idea," Santana smiled. "But if she says no, the drive home will be really awkward."

"She's not going to say no, Santana," Mike grinned.

"Ugh, stop smiling at me," Santana said, covering her face with her arm again, but she couldn't quite hide her own smile. "Go to bed."

* * *

><p>I rolled over for the millionth time. I couldn't sleep and now I was fidgeting all over the place. I was surprised Tina hadn't woken up again and told me to stop moving so much, but I guess she knew I didn't want to talk to her right now. I stared over at her. She had her back to me and I could hear her breathing soft and steady. Maybe she was asleep.<p>

"Tina...?" I whispered and then shrank back as I waited for a response. Nothing. I sat up a little and stretched forward to look at her. She was passed out. I wiggled my feet out from the blankets, pausing again once I had moved from the bed. Tina hadn't moved, so I figured it was safe to tiptoe to the door between our hotel rooms. I nearly cursed when I tripped over my own clothes, but it came out as a hiss and I froze again to look at Tina. Still asleep. I rolled my eyes at myself and made the final stretch to the door without waking her or running into anything else.

I unlocked the door and then jiggled the door handle. It didn't move. I let out a quiet groan. Mike must have locked the door from the other side. I let my head press against the door and sighed. I slipped away from the door and turned back to the bed. I only took a few steps when the door clicked open behind me.

"Britt?"

I twisted around and saw Santana peek her head in. I smiled and in an instant I closed the distance between us. She smiled and opened the door a little more to let me wrap my arms around her.

"Santana," I murmured, burying my face into the crook of her neck. I felt her hands slide up my sides and then tug at the hood that covered most of my head. She pulled it down and then let her fingers tickle through my hair.

"Couldn't sleep either?" she whispered. I nodded against her. She let out a soft laugh and then pulled me into our room, carefully closing the door behind us. I kept my arms latched around her waist and stumbled forward with her. She peeled away from me and held my hands as she glanced back at Mike. He was asleep.

"C'mere," Santana said, pulling me towards the bathroom. I looked back at Mike quizzically as I stumbled forward, and I swear I saw him peek at me just before Santana dragged me into the bathroom.

"Santana," I said quietly as she reached past me to close the door. I heard it click close as she stepped closer to me. She stared up at me and for a moment we were silent.

"Brittany, I-"

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers. She sighed and pulled her hand away from the door handle, moving it up my back and pressing it against me. She tugged me closer as I ran my fingers up through her hair. In that moment, everything just faded. The worries and the fear I had about Santana just melted away, and the only thing I felt was the tingle of her lips against mine and the pounding of my heart. She pulled back a little for air, but I just moved forward to catch her lips again. When I parted my lips to suck on hers, she pressed into me, pushing my back against the door. It was a slow kiss, or maybe it just felt that way. I wasn't sure. She let her hands slip away from my back and they moved up to wrap around my neck.

Santana hummed and held against my lips for moment longer before bowing her head a little. She rested her forehead against mine and looked up at me. Her breath was soft and warm against my lips and only made me want to kiss her again, but the way she looked at me kept me from doing so.

"Are you okay?" Santana whispered, dragging her fingers up my neck and cupping below my ears, running her thumbs soothingly over my cheeks. I blinked sleepily. Her one hand moved and ran under my lower eyelid, and I realized I was crying.

"I am now," I murmured. She smiled and wrinkled her nose, nuzzling it against mine. She let her arms fall and stepped back, gripping my hands as she lowered to sit down on the ground. She pulled me down to meet her and then twisted me so my back was to her chest. I let my head fall back and rest against her as she leaned back against the wall.

"What's wrong?" she cooed, scratching her fingers against my arm.

"I had a nightmare," I said quietly. She stopped moving her hand along my arm and squeezed me gently in a light hug.

"Do you have those a lot?" Santana whispered. I shrugged my shoulders.

"A lot more recently," I said.

"Is it that same one? With the dancing?" Santana said, lifting her hand to stroke my hair. I sighed and nuzzled it with my cheek.

"Yeah," I mumbled. She tilted my head towards her and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, then my nose, paused, and then lowered to my lips. It made my eyes flutter closed and she giggled. I opened my eyes again and she was grinning at me.

"You make the cutest face when you're expecting more kisses," Santana said, tapping my nose with her index finger. I wrinkled it and did my best to frown at her, but I couldn't.

"If you need to," Santana said. "You can just pretend you're dancing with me instead of a faceless person. In your dream."

"No," I shook my head. "He's scary. And you're already there."

"I am?" Santana's brow furrowed a little, but she held her gentle smile.

"Mm," I nodded. "In a birdcage."

"Huh," Santana huffed. "I don't know if I should be concerned or turned on."

"Santana!" I laughed, smacking her thigh. She let out a light chuckle and hugged me tightly as she rocked to the side.

"Sorry, sorry," Santana giggled, trying to straighten. "Seriously, though, what can I do to make the nightmare go away?"

"Nothing," I sighed. "I don't know."

"Then I'll just have to be there to give you hugs and kisses whenever you wake up scared."

"Yeah?" I smiled. I liked that plan a lot. I didn't think I would have nightmares when Santana had her arms wrapped around me, but knowing she wanted to be there for me made my heart start pounding rapidly in my chest again. I felt a little dizzy.

"Hey," Santana said, pressing her lips against my temple. "Are you alright?"

I think she noticed I was dizzy. I wondered if maybe I had wavered weirdly in her arms or if she just felt my heart beating really fast again. I nodded slowly.

"Yeah, it was just a dream," I shrugged.

"I'm not talking about that," Santana said, squeezing me tighter in her arms. "The whole time we were talking earlier, it was about me. No one even thought to ask you anything."

"Santana, I'm fine," I said, twisting to look up at her. "I like you. A lot."

"Are you okay with... with me being a lesbian?" Santana whispered quietly.

"I'd be really concerned if you were straight," I said softly. Santana laughed and kissed my forehead. She held me there for a while, stroking her fingers through my hair. It took me a moment to realize she was swaying us back and forth slowly. It helped calm down my heart.

"What about you?" Santana said, squeezing me tightly.

"What about me?" I asked.

"Are you...?"

"I like who I like, Santana," I murmured. "I don't care about gender or whatever... Is that okay?"

"Of course it is," Santana smiled. "That's more than okay."

"Hey, Santana?" I said, leaning my back further into her. She shifted and leaned her head against mine. I stared out at the bathtub, hesitant to say anything more or even look back at her.

"Yeah, Britt?"

"Are we...dating?" My body tensed when I asked the question. I was actually really scared of the answer. I'd never dated anyone before. But I'd never liked someone as much as Santana before either. I wasn't sure how it worked.

"Didn't you take me out on a date today?" Santana asked quietly. "And before, when we went to the aquarium? I thought you decided that was a date."

"So we've been... dating this whole time?" I whispered, twisting to look up at her.

"Is that okay? Because I'm not going to lie," Santana said, smiling sheepishly. "I want to date the shit out of you."

"Yes," I laughed. "It's definitely okay. More than okay. It's great. I want to date you, too." I twisted and pressed a kiss to her lips, raising my hands to cup her cheeks. She giggled and I kept kissing her. On her lips, the corners of her mouth, her cheeks, her eyelids. I made soft little pecks all over her face, and before long, she was giving me light kisses whenever she could, too.

When we found each others lips again, she wrapped her hands behind my head and held me still to give me a long, deep kiss. I hummed softly and she smiled against my lips. She parted her lips and let her tongue moisten them, but before she could draw it back into her mouth, my tongue was dancing across hers. She giggled and let me slip my tongue into her mouth, twisting a little as she tangled her fingers in my hair. I let my hands slide away from her face, resting my palms on her collarbone as I pressed into her.

I was so glad I was leaning into Santana, because I knew she would catch me if I started to feel like I was falling again. I felt my heart race, too, but it felt good. I was excited and happy, because Santana wanted to date me. She liked me enough that we were dating. She let me kiss her and kissed back for a while, until her hands dragged away from the back of my head and returned to cup my cheeks. She was panting as she tore away, trying to still pepper light kisses on my lips. I giggled and brushed my nose against hers.

"Are you tired?" Santana murmured. I nodded.

"Yeah," I sighed, pressing another light kiss to her lips. She smiled and dragged her hands to my waist to sit me up.

"Let's get some sleep then, okay?" She shifted and stood up, holding my hands in hers as she pulled me up. I hugged her and she let out another small laugh as she waddled backwards towards the bathroom door.

"Shh," she cooed as we stepped out into our hotel room. She glanced up and saw Mike sprawled out on his bed. He peeked up at us and then quickly shifted, pretending to be asleep.

"What a dork," Santana murmured, leading me along to her bed and opening up the covers for me to crawl in. I looked over at Mike and he winked at me before returning to pretending to be asleep. Santana picked up Jeremy and threw him at Mike's face.

"Oof!" Mike spat, grabbing Jeremy quickly and tearing him away.

"You can have him for the night," Santana said as she crawled into bed with me. He smiled and turned on his side, hugging Jeremy in his arms.

"So, how'd it go, Lady Lopez?" Mike smiled. "Looks like you got the girl."

"Shut up," Santana grinned and I nuzzled into her side. "Go to sleep. Both of you."

"Don't need to tell me twice," I yawned and nestled my head into the crook of her neck.

* * *

><p>I woke up in the same position I remembered falling asleep in. Santana had her arms wrapped around me and her hand was gently stroking my hair. I smiled and then pressed my lips against her neck before moving a little to look up at her. She smiled and pressed a feather-light kiss to my forehead.<p>

"D...did you not sleep?" I mumbled sleepily. She pulled me up a little as I twisted to my side instead of laying completely on top of her like I had been.

"No, but I still had the best dream ever," Santana said, wrinkling her nose at me. I kissed it. "How did you sleep?"

"Hm," I inhaled and snuggled against her. "Wonderfully."

Santana twisted a little, glancing back at Mike. I sat up a little and looked over her shoulder. He was sprawled across the double bed like a starfish. His hair was messy and his mouth hung open as he snored quietly. Jeremy was somehow tucked underneath him, with his head poking out beneath Mike's back.

"I feel bad for the little guy," Santana whispered. "Should we save him?"

"We might wake up Mike, though," I said.

"Mm," Santana nodded and turned back to me. She pressed her lips to mine and I giggled. "I guess we should take all the alone time we can get, huh?"

"Definitely," I nodded. She dipped forward again and snatched my lips in hers. We barely kissed again when there was a click at the opposite side of the room. Santana sighed and pulled away from me to look up. Tina stood frozen in the doorway, glancing over to Mike momentarily before turning her attention back to Santana and I. Tina opened her mouth to say something, but then Santana pulled me closer to her and shot Tina a glare.

"...I was just wondering where everyone was," Tina murmured, letting go of the door as she moved towards Mike's bed. Santana kept her gaze trained on Tina as she crawled onto the bed. Mike jolted, sniffing loudly as she curled up next to him. He smiled and wrapped his arm around her and then paused. He rose his hips up into the air a little bit and wiggled Jeremy out from underneath his back.

"Nice of you to join us," Mike said, pressing his lips to Tina's forehead. Tina smiled sheepishly and patted Jeremy on the head. "What time is it?"

"Early," Tina murmured. "Go back to sleep."

"Mm, no, hey," Mike shook his head. "We're gonna go on a double date today."

"Yeah?" Tina murmured. "Okay."

"We are?" I whispered. Santana smiled and nodded. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know," Santana shrugged. "It's up to Mike, I think."

"I was thinking the aquarium?" He smiled at Tina.

"Oh, but we've already been to the aquarium," I said, sitting up a little. Tina and Mike looked up and over at us, their expressions matching with their brows knit together in confusion.

"Santana and I went to the the aquarium already. Not the one here, the one in Manhattan," I said.

"Wait, you two already went on a dat-" Tina started but Mike rose his brow at her.

"Okay, we can think of something else to do," Mike shrugged. Santana let out a little sound that sounded like a whimper or a squeak or something in between. We all looked up at her.

"...I like aquariums..." she whispered sheepishly. I laughed and wriggled my nose against hers.

"We can go," I laughed. "And this time I'll know it's a date and you can pay for lunch."

* * *

><p>Having been to an aquarium just a short time before, even I had to admit the Ripley's Aquarium in Myrtle Beach was really cool. I mean, it was a lot smaller, but it had a vastly different set up. For one, Santana and I were standing on a slow moving platform like the ones in airports. Only we were in a tunnel. Made of a giant tank.<p>

"Wait, wait, go back," I said, pressing against her hands. She was standing behind me, holding her hands to my waist as I tried to move on the walkway back in the opposite direction.

"Brittany," Santana giggled, letting me slip out of her grasp. I looked back at her and waved for her to follow me. She smiled and walked behind me. It was hard to actually move forward much, because we kept getting pulled back any time we moved slower than the walkway was.

"What?" Santana asked. I pointed but when I looked back at the tank, it was gone.

"Oh," I murmured in disappointment. I stopped walking and glided backwards into Santana. She let out a small 'oof' but then stopped walking as well. "I thought I saw a cowfish."

"You might have," Santana shrugged, rubbing her hands against my arms lightly. "You like the stingrays too, right?"

She pointed up and I smiled. A large stingray was flapping its wings above us and we could see its mouth sucking in and out, pushing water through its weird looking gills.

"It looks like it's flying," I laughed, because it did. Especially because it was above us. I twirled around and Santana drew back a little. Her eyes darted down and I smiled because I think she was staring at my lips.

"Can we go to the touch tank after this?" I asked. Santana rose her brow.

"The what?"

"The touch tank," I repeated, wriggling around to face her completely as I shuffled with my bag and pulled out the map of the aquarium. "It's a tank where you can pet the sea animals."

"Oh," Santana laughed. "I thought you were implying something else. I was about to say, _Wanky._"

"Ooooh," I grinned, glancing around. Mike and Tina were huddled closely together, hand in hand, as Tina pointed at one of the sharks that swam by. I turned back to Santana and poked my finger against her stomach. "We can do that too."

Santana let out a nervous laugh and twisted to face the tank again. I pressed my shoulder into hers and held my hand out for hers over the railing. She slowly took it and wiggled it lightly against the railing. She'd been keeping our PDA to the minimum, but I understood why. I don't think she was ready to be as touchy-feely as Mike and Tina were, but I was glad she was holding my hand. Even if we had to use our bodies as a shield to hide it.

"I want to go back and pet the stingrays," I said, crinkling the map in front of us and over our intertwined hand. She grabbed the other end of the map with her free hand and chuckled.

"We were already there," Santana said. "You panicked because they felt slimy."

"I want to try again," I said, puffing out my lower lip. "Please?"

"Yeah, okay," Santana nodded. "After the touch tank, because I have a feeling it's not going to be that cool."

"Why do you say that?" I said.

"Look, come on, it's a kiddie area," she said, pointing to the map. It had a picture of a child holding one of those horseshoe crabs.

The touch tank ended up freaking Santana out. She did not like the horseshoe crabs at all, because hers writhed around in her hand and clicked its many legs against her palm. She shrieked and dropped it in the water.

"Oh my god," Santana said, moving closely to me and clinging her damp hands around my arm. Mike and Tina stood opposite of us and laughed. I held up my horseshoe crab and it started to wiggle its legs in the air. Santana smacked my arm.

"Stop, put it back," she urged. "Let him back in the water. It's creepy."

"I don't understand how you're not afraid of sharks, but you're terrified of this lil' guy," I smiled, dipping him back in the water. He swiftly rotated around and swam away from us.

"I'm not terrified, they're just gross," Santana insisted. "Look how many legs it has. It's creepy crawly."

"I think they're really cool," Tina said, wiggling her fingers over the feet of the one that Mike held in his hand. It writhed and clicked its legs, tickling back at Tina's hand.

"Ugh, you would," Santana groaned, pulling me aside.

"Where are you going?" Tina asked.

"Back to the stingray section," Santana said, pressing her palm against my back.

"Santana, you're getting my shirt wet," I giggled. I let her push me along back towards the ramp that led to the lower level of the Stingray tank. Santana looped her arm in mine and pulled me along until we were surrounded by flying rays. It was darker there, and I was surprised hardly anyone was down here. I spun around and stepped backwards, wiggling my eyebrows at her.

"Well, this is familiar," I muttered. Santana glanced around and then stepped forward.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Santana said softly, lifting her hand to cup my cheek. "Oh, what's that?"

"What's what?" I said, glancing behind me. She had pressed me up to the wall where there wasn't a tank. I twisted back to face her.

"I think there's something on your face," Santana muttered just before closing the distance between us and placing a gentle kiss to my lips. I smiled and tugged on her shirt to pull her closer. She tilted her head, deepening the kiss, forcing me to sigh.

"_Ahem._"

Santana froze against me and then slowly peaked behind her. Mike had his fist raised to his mouth as he cleared his throat and Tina was giggling next to him.

"I thought you guys were going to go look at the stingrays again," Mike said. "Not _jellyfish_."

Santana flushed and I laughed.

"I-ju-wha-" Santana stammered, and I looped my arm in hers.

"Let's go get food, I'm hungry," I said quickly.

"I'm going to bet you're not as hungry as that thing that was macking on your face just now," Tina said, turning around and pulling Mike along with her towards the other end of the stingray tank.

"You two have been- I just- One time!" Santana grumbled. I tugged her closer to me and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

"They're just jealous," I whispered. "Because you're a really good kisser."

Santana's cheeks got impossibly redder.

"C'mon, you owe me lunch," I said, dragging her forward.

* * *

><p>"You sure you're okay to drive?" Tina asked as I slipped into the driver's seat. Santana and Mike traded the passenger seat after a little bit of her insistent pleading. Luckily, he agreed once she offered him Jeremy. I had a feeling they were going to end up fighting over him before the car ride was over. Or maybe when we got home and Mike and Tina had to leave to go to their own apartment. Regardless, I wasn't looking forward to the pillow pet custody battle.<p>

"Is it okay if I turn music on?" I asked as Santana placed her hand in mine. I smiled and squeezed her hand gently.

"Sure," Tina nodded. "If it's okay with Mike."

"I'm up, I'm up," he nodded sleepily as he rested his head against Jeremy. I nudged my hand in Santana's towards my bag.

"Can you grab my iPod?" I said.

"Oh wow, if you still have all the music from the studio, this is going to be really interesting," Mike murmured. Santana shuffled through my purse and eventually pulled out my scuffed up, purple iPod nano. The headphones were tangled around it.

"You really don't know how to treat your technology, do you?" Santana mumbled as she untangled the cord.

"It's just an iPod," I shrugged. "And it works. I'm just clumsy."

"You should get a case or something for it," Santana sighed and plugged it into the audio jack. "What song do you want to listen to?"

"I don't know," I shrugged and then wiggled my shoulders. "I just wanna dance."

"You're driving, you can't dance," Santana warned. I stuck out my tongue at her.

"Watch me," I said, tossing my head up a little. Santana rolled her eyes and started to scroll through my iPod. I heard the click click clicks from speakers until she snickered. I glanced over at her and she shook her head.

"I can't believe you have this song," Santana shook her head.

"What song?" I rose my brow. "Is it the Monster Mash, because that was for Halloween at the dance studio-"

"No, no," Santana laughed. "Wait, you have the Monster Mash on your iPod?"

"I just told you-"

"I'll just play it, hold on," Santana said, clicking a button on my iPod before leaning forward and adjusting the volume on the center console. There was a clanking of shoes and then a familiar laugh.

"Oh god," I groaned. Tina let out a sharp squeal.

"Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want," Santana said, tossing her hand in the air as she grinned goofily at me.

"So, tell me what you want, what you really really want," Tina said, popping forward from the back seat. Santana rolled her eyes, a smirk on her face as she gently pressed her hand against Tina's face and pushed her back.

"I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want," Santana said, flicking her eyes at Tina.

"So, tell me what you want, what you really really want," Mike said. We all paused a moment when he started singing and then laughed.

"-wanna huh, I wanna huh, I wanna huh, I wanna really really really wanna zig-a-zig-ah," we all sang, and Santana and Tina were swaying from side to side while Mike and I bobbed our heads up and down.

"If you want my future? Forget my past," Santana sang.

"If you wanna get with me? Better make it fast," I sang back. I smiled at her and she blushed.

"Now don't go wasting my precious time," Tina sang. Mike tugged Tina back as Santana rose her brow.

"Get your act together and we could be just fine," Mike said, pointing between the two of them.

We all broke back into the chorus, but Santana shouted at me as I let go of the steering wheel to wiggle back and forth. I caught the wheel again and smiled sheepishly at her as she sat back in her seat.

"-If you wanna be my lover," Tina said, trying to get us to recover.

"You gotta get with my friends," Mike nodded, wrapping his arm around Tina and Santana's shoulders.

"Make it last forever, friendship never eeends," Santana sang as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my cheek. I smiled and blushed a little, I think.

"If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give," I said, raising my brow at Santana. Her jaw dropped a little and her mouth formed a small 'o' shape. I made a grab for her hand and squeezed it.

"Taking is too easy, but that's the way it iiis," Santana and I sang together. She laughed.

"Oh, what you think about that? Now you know how I feel," Santana said, pressing her free hand to her chest as she looked at me.

"Say you can handle my love? Are you for real?" I sang back. Tina chimed in another 'Are you for real?' and Santana swatted at her.

"I won't be hasty, I'll give you a try," I continued.

"If you really bug me, then I'll say good-bye," Santana sang back, but instead of looking at me, she glared at Tina and Mike and shoved them back from between our seats. We sang another round of zig-a-zig-ah's and the chorus before Santana and Tina turned their attention to me. I grinned and wiggled my hand free from Santana's as I snapped it up and down to the beat.

"So here's the story from A-to-Z, if you wanna get with me you gotta listen carefully," I said quickly. "We got 'Em in the place who likes it in yo' face, you got G like MC who likes it, on the easy V doesn't come for free, she's a real lady. And as for me, ah, you'll see-"

"-Slam your body down and wind it all around," Santana and Tina sang as they tried to wiggle in their seats.

"Slam your body down and wind it all around!" Mike and I shouted. The four of us continued to show the rest of the lyrics, mock playing the air piano when we broke between them. Santana yelled at me again to keep my hands on the wheel and we all giggled playfully.

"I never realized how terrible that song was," Santana laughed.

"What are you talking about?" I snapped. "It's all about the power of looooove and friendship! Like Sailor Moon!"

"Ugh, you did not just say that," Santana shook her head.

"90's feels?" I smirked. She lifted my hand in hers and kissed my hand.

"Major 90's feels," Santana giggled.

After a while, Mike traded with me and Santana and I switched to the backseat again. The car ride didn't feel as long as the drive down. I guess maybe because we weren't anticipating going home as much, but I think it had everything to do with Santana being comfortable enough to snuggle with me. She wasn't mad or frustrated this time because of the Britt-Kisses, because she kept tickling me and sneaking kisses when we were sure Mike and Tina weren't looking. She fell back asleep for a while, and I guess I did too, because we were in Maryland by the time I woke up again.

"Wow, she's out," Mike said, looking up in the rear-view mirror at Santana and I. Santana had her head pressed up against the window, Jeremy squished between her face and the glass. I was half asleep, curled up against her when Mike spoke, and I lifted my head sleepily to look up at Santana.

"She didn't really sleep much," I mumbled, rubbing my palm against my eye and yawning. I stretched a little and saw that Tina was also passed out in the passenger seat. I leaned forward and pressed my cheek against the side of the driver's seat. Mike lifted his hand and ruffled my bangs while keeping his eyes on the road. I scrunched up my face and fixed my hair.

"You didn't sleep a lot either," Mike said.

"Mm, more than Santana though," I shrugged.

"How are you holding up?" Mike asked.

"I guess I could use a little more sleep, but as comfy as Santana is, I'm feeling a little cramped back here," I said. Mike let out a laugh. His eyes found mine in the rear-view mirror and his smile softened.

"Sorry. We'll be home in a few hours," Mike said. "But I'm wondering about you. Santana and you are dating now, huh? That's big news."

I felt my cheeks flush and I looked down sheepishly. I shuffled back and forth, knocking my knees together gently. With my temple still resting against Mike's seat, I glanced back at Santana. She looked so peaceful when she was asleep. Her brow was uncreased and her lips were slightly parted. Santana was so pretty. I jolted a little and caught myself on Mike's seat. He glanced back at me and I waved my hand at him.

"Sorry, my foot slipped," I said, looking down at my feet. There was a raised portion in the center of the car that my foot had slid off of and jerked me out of my daze.

"No worries," Mike shrugged. "How are you feeling about that?"

"My foot slipping?" I said, catching his gaze in the mirror again. He squinted at me and smiled. I smiled back.

"No, yeah," I nodded. "I'm fine."

"Just fine?" Mike said.

"I don't know," I shrugged. I leaned forward and pressed my cheek against his shoulder. I didn't know if that was okay. We weren't particularly strong friends, but I kinda just needed the contact. "It feels like a dream."

"A good one?"

"Yeah," I smiled, my cheek pressing more against his shoulder a little as I did so. "I'm just like... afraid someone's going to pinch me and I'll wake up."

Mike lifted his hand and lifted it up. Before I realized what he was doing, he glanced back and pinched my cheek. I wrinkled my nose and shrunk back a little bit and laughed.

"Nope, still here," Mike grinned. "Looks like you're stuck with us."

"I just... can't believe it. That she wants to be with... with me," I murmured softly.

"Why?" Mike said, wrinkling his brow as he looked down at me. "She's just as lucky to have you. Believe me, alright? You're an amazing person. I haven't seen Santana so happy since... well, ever."

"Yeah?" I looked up at him.

"You must be pretty special to do that," Mike smiled. "Not that you aren't awesome for a ton of other reasons."

"Yeah... right," I nodded. His smile vanished and he let his hand rustle my bangs again.

"Why so hard on yourself?" Mike asked. "She likes you. You like her, right?"

"I do. So much," I nodded. "I'm just scared she'll realize I'm not as great as you all think I am."

"What do you mean, Brittany?" Mike's brow furrowed.

"I just... no one has ever stuck with me," I shrugged. "I didn't have a lot of friends in high school. I lost contact with my friends from Lima after I moved to Cincinnati. People always think I'm really... well, _stupid_. That the only thing I can do is dance, and even then... People can be really mean."

"Hey," Mike said, straightening a little so I had to pull my cheek away from his shoulder. "You're good at a ton of stuff. From what I hear, you rap pretty well. And you're funny. And who said you're stupid? You managed to pull the wool over everyone's eyes for how long now? With you and Santana? That's pretty sneaky smart, if you ask me."

"Heh," I smiled. "We weren't very sneaky at all."

"Fooled them," he shrugged, nodding his head at Tina.

"I guess so," I laughed.

"Santana said some really nice things about you," Mike said. "I probably shouldn't say this, but she _really_ likes you, Brittany. You're doing everything right."

"I am?" I brightened. He laughed.

"Yeah," Mike nodded. "I see what she meant about you lighting up."

"Lighting up?" I glanced down at myself.

"Don't worry about it," Mike said. "You know, Santana used to just sleep whenever she didn't have class or work. We even had to bribe Santana to go to my dance class."

"Really?" I said, looking up at him in surprise.

"Yeah, we're lucky she doesn't really like to cook food for herself a whole lot," Mike chuckled. "But anyway... there's this quote... it's something like, 'You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep, because reality is finally better than your dreams.'"

I flushed and looked back at Santana.

"Who said that?" I asked quietly.

"Uh..." Mike lifted his hand to scratch the bridge of his nose. "Dr. Seuss, I think."

"Dr. Seuss?" I laughed.

"Hey, don't knock Dr. Seuss, he was a genius," Mike said. "Foot by Foot? Literary masterpiece."

"Oh, definitely," I nodded.

"If you're not sure how to talk to Santana about something, you can always talk to us," Mike said. "I know sometimes it's scary when you like someone, because you don't want to say the wrong thing."

"I'll keep that in mind," I smiled. "Thank you, Mike."

"Mm, of course."

"You're really smart, Mike," I said, leaning back in my seat.

"Only when I need to be," he shrugged. "And I'm sure you would have figured things out on your own. I'm not so sure about Santana. With your help, I think those chances are higher."

"...whose chances are higher?" Santana murmured. I smiled and picked at a few strands of her hair to fix it as she sat up. I leaned forward and nuzzled my nose against her cheek and she blushed.

"Nothing, don't worry about it," I said and kissed the spot I had pressed my nose to. She wriggled her hand at me and laughed nervously.

"S-stop," she giggled.

"No making out in the backseat, ladies," Mike said from the driver's seat. I grinned from ear to ear, but Santana swatted me again.

"Stop getting me in trouble," she murmured, but she couldn't hide her smile.

"It's not making out if I keep my tongue in my mouth, right?"

"Brittany!" Santana gasped as Mike burst into laughter. I shuffled closer to her and she opened her arms up to let me lay down on top of her.

"Tired?" she asked quietly. I yawned and shook my head.

"Nope."

"Comfy?" Santana squeezed her arms around me and I nodded.

"Yep."

"Good," Santana sighed, kissing my forehead. I nestled myself into her and sighed softly. Maybe I was tired. The past twenty-four hours had been really stressful. Santana shifted underneath me, bringing her legs up onto the seat, and I wiggled around so that we were both laying comfortably. I was just dozing off when Santana whispered something softly above my head.

"I'm so glad I met you, Brittany," Santana sighed.

"Me too," I murmured quietly, lifting my head off her shoulder to kiss her cheek. She twisted at the last second and I ended up kissing her on the lips. I smiled, because I didn't mind that at all. Not even a little.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I like Mike. He's cool. :) Yesterday was ITYTD' 2 month birthday...! Yay. :)**

** Is it weird I'm more excited about its 3 month birthday than my own? Let's see, so I think _I'm_ supposed to draw you guys something considering we're hitting some major benchmarks with this chapter. a) Girlfrieeeends b) 2 months c) almost 1000 reviews. Unfortunately, I don't have all the time in the world with the semester ending, but I'll figure something out. :)**

**Song is Wannabe by the Spice Girls - .com/watch?v=7gnRMPsHN1E**

**Munkeyyy drew another picture - tinyurl . com /ITYTDCH27Munkeyyy**

**Oh, and I drew something for a few chapters back, but I never linked it directly here - ******tinyurl . com /ITYTDCH24HeeBee****


	28. When I Look into your Eyes

"Santana," I giggled as she slumped into me. She had snaked her arms around my ribcage and was resting most of her weight against my body as I stumbled into the elevator of our apartment complex. It was difficult to move around with Santana latched onto my body while I was trying to drag our suitcase behind me.

"I'm so tired," Santana murmured, nuzzling her nose against the crook of my neck. I smiled, releasing my hold on the suitcase handle and stretching as best I could to hit the button for the third floor. Once the doors closed, I pressed a kiss on her forehead and wrapped my arms around her. She shifted slightly so that her body was facing me directly and shuffled closer. I smiled as she let out a content hum.

"I had a lot of fun today," I said, running my hand through her hair.

"Me too," Santana said quietly. "I'm really, really glad we're home, though."

"Yeah? But the beach was so nice," I said, squeezing her tighter. "I wish we would have spent more time there. I still look like an albino polar bear."

"Brittany," Santana said, sliding her face up against my neck and then leaning back a little. I held my arms steady; otherwise I think she would have fallen backwards.

"Polar bears are already white," Santana smiled, raising a brow at me as best she could. It was cute, because it looked kind of like she could barely keep her eyes open.

"Polar bears actually have black skin, though," I said. "They have to in order to absorb heat. Black body masses are better for that. White reflects it back, so a polar bear's fur reflects sunlight back and contains the heat."

"Why do you know that?" Santana laughed.

"I like animals."

"I can tell," Santana smiled. "So are you saying you didn't catch any sun?"

"I don't think so," I said, glancing down at myself. Santana rose her brow and smirked as she leaned forward.

"I could check for a tan line," she whispered softly. I felt her fingers tickle down my back and play with the bottom of her hoodie I was wearing. I giggled and shook my head, because the door to the elevator opened. Her head drooped and she pressed her forehead against my shoulder.

"Move your butt before the door closes," I laughed as I shuffled forward, inching her towards the door. She moaned a protest, but when the door started beeping at us for preventing it from closing, she hopped back and helped me pull the suitcase. We giggled, wrestling with the handle and pulling it in different directions until we arrived at our apartment. As I fumbled with the keys, she leaned her side to mine, swaying shyly back and forth.

"You're making it really difficult to do anything," I grinned.

"That's because I don't want you to do anything but pay attention to me," Santana mumbled as she poked her finger at my stomach playfully.

"I'm always paying attention to you," I said as I managed to insert my key into the lock. I looked up at her as I opened the door. She stepped aside for me to pull the suitcase forward, but she was staring at the ground, blushing. I picked the bag up and dropped it inside and turned to grab both her hands as I walked backwards into our apartment.

"You're right, I'm glad we're home," I said once I had pulled her inside. The door fell closed behind her as I tugged her into my arms. I pressed my forehead against hers and wrinkled my nose.

"Why's that?" Santana whispered.

"Because we've got the whole apartment to ourselves," I smiled. "And I've got you all to myself."

"Mm," Santana hummed. "My thoughts exactly."

"Why did we go to the beach again?" I murmured softly, pecking her lightly on the lips.

"No idea," Santana sighed, letting her arms wrap around my neck. Again, she leaned her weight on me, so I wrapped my arms around her back and clasped my hands together at the small of her back.

"Are you tired?" I asked quietly. I don't know why we were being so quiet. We were home alone. Maybe it was because neither of us had turned on the lights and we were standing in the middle of the dark living room.

"Mm." Santana leaned forward pressed her lips lightly to mine. I smiled and kissed her back. I could tell she was sleepy, because she was having trouble keeping up with my lips. I laughed and pressed them to her cheek before hugging her tightly.

"Come on, sleepy butt," I said, loosening my hold around her waist and patting her butt lightly as I tried to pry myself out of her grasp. For someone that couldn't even keep up with a lazy kiss, she was able to resist well enough that I couldn't back up more than an inch from her.

"Santana," I giggled as she snuggled back into me. "Don't make me carry you."

She stopped snuggling me for a second. I thought maybe she was going to let go, but then she squeezed me tighter. I grinned and twisted a bit, swooping my arm and bending down to catch her behind her knees and scooped her up in my arms. She let out a gasp and her grip around my neck tightened. I readjusted my hold on her and smiled as she curled into me.

"Why aren't you tired?" Santana muttered against my neck. I started up the stairs.

"I am," I said softly. "But you're more tired."

"Ugh, I am," Santana sighed. "I don't know why. I slept so much in the car."

I reached the top of the stairs and continued down the hallway towards Santana's room.

"You've had a lot going on," I said quietly as I paused at her door, unsure how I was going to open it with her in my arms. She let one hand slip away from my neck and twisted the door hand before quickly slapping her hand back to it's previous position. I pushed the door open and made my way to the bed and gently laid her down. She hung onto my neck so I couldn't stand back up straight - not that I was going to - so I crawled into bed with her.

Santana finally released her hold on me when I was looming above her. I knelt down and placed a soft kiss on her lips. She sighed sleepily, and I smiled against her lips as I tickled my fingers down her stomach to her waistband.

"Britt, I don't think... I mean, I want to, but ugh, I'm so sleepy," Santana murmured and I laughed.

"Babe, you can't sleep in jeans," I said. She looked up at me and exhaled a quiet laugh as I started to unbutton her pants. She helped by wiggling a bit as I pulled them down and peeled them off her legs. She giggled when I twisted to face her again, sliding my fingers up her thighs and to her shirt. She sat up a little as I removed it, falling back into the covers the moment she was free of her exterior layer of clothes. I quickly made away with my own exterior layer of clothes before her hands reached up and pulled me down into a hug.

"Better?" I said before a kiss. Santana nodded and I rolled onto my side. We shuffled and struggled with the blanket for a second, but the moment we were under the covers, Santana snuggled into me and sighed sleepily. I wrapped my arm around her and closed my eyes.

"...I didn't check on Lord Tubbington," I said moments later, as my eyes snapped open.

"He's fine. You left out enough food for a horse," Santana murmured.

"But he's not used to just dry cat food," I said, shifting a little. Her grip on me tightened and I was pulled back down to the bed.

"Whether or not he ate it, I think he's fine. Besides, he could stand to lose a little weight," Santana said.

"He's not fat, he's big boned," I said as she nuzzled her nose against my neck.

"Whatever, just stay here," Santana sighed. I felt her lips press weakly against my neck. Santana was really cute when she was sleepy. I don't think I could have denied her request if I wanted to.

"Mm," I nodded, resting my chin on the top of her head. I closed my eyes again and exhaled softly, letting my hand rub up and down her arm. Santana made me feel so warm and happy and fuzzy-

"Shoot, I left Jeremy in the car," I said, snapping awake again.

"Brittany," Santana whined softly, peeling away from my neck to look up at me. I smiled weakly when she frowned and wrinkled her nose at me.

"I'll get him tomorrow?" I said cautiously.

"Good," Santana said, leaning forward and kissing me on the lips. She held there for a moment, and I felt my eyes flutter closed. She slipped her hand up to run her fingers delicately along my jawline. I think she was kissing me to stop me from talking, or maybe to help me fall asleep. Whatever the case, it was working.

"Go to sleep, baby," Santana murmured after she broke from the kiss. I nodded lazily and soon enough, I was out like a light.

* * *

><p>A light layer of pecks and sweet, soft lady kisses woke me up. Santana was laying half on top of me, her arm extended by my side to hold herself up. I blinked sleepily as she lowered her head to press a kiss to my nose, and I tilted my head up a little so that she missed and found my lips instead. She huffed out a small laugh, but continued to move her lips against mine. My hand found its way up and grazed past her ear to sift through her hair. It wasn't long until we were fully making out. She shifted, moving her leg to straddle me as she wrestled her tongue against mine. I tried to sit up a little, but she pressed further down, effectively pinning me down without really trying. I didn't protest, mostly because I was still kind of waking up. But what a way to wake up. I felt tingles all along my spine. It was shocking that she had that effect on me.<p>

Santana pulled away from my lips and started kissing down my neck to my collarbone. I giggled when strands of her hair tickled along my bare skin and twisted to look up at Santana's headboard. My brow furrowed when I found her alarm clock. It was hard enough to concentrate on it because I was trying to read the numbers upside-down, but Santana kept nipping at me and causing me to fidget.

"Stop fidgeting," Santana laughed. "I'm trying to get my sweet lady kisses on."

"You want more than kisses," I laughed, twisting up a little.

"True." She tried to keep me down, but I found the strength to sit up. I turned properly to the clock again and my smile dropped.

"Crap, I have to go to work," I frowned when I finally was able to read the time properly.

"Nooo," Santana whined. I turned back to look at her and she ran her fingers up my stomach, over my bra, and pressed her palms down lightly as she leaned in to go back to kissing me. I let her for all of four-seconds before I tore away again.

"Santana, work," I insisted. "You have work, too."

"I hate work," she groaned, sitting up a little. I let my hands fall down to hold her by her waist and smiled up at her.

"You love your job," I said.

"Mm, well I hate it now," Santana said, grinning at me. "I'd much rather spend my day with my girlfriend."

"Oh?" I said, raising a brow. "_Girlfriend_?"

"Mm-hmm," Santana said, shifting to lower herself towards me.

"Who is she?" I said, narrowing my eyes. "I don't want any competition."

"She's this amazing dancer," Santana murmured, lowering to press her lips to my cheek.

"With a rockin' body," she continued, running her hand down over my stomach as she pressed another kiss to my other cheek.

"Blonde. With eyes like the ocean," she paused, staring down at me. I gazed up at her, watching her eyes search mine.

"She's funny, and sweet, and just the right amount of cute," Santana said as her lips spread into a smile.

"How will I ever compete with someone that sounds so _awesome_?" I said, puffing out my lower lip in a pout.

"I don't know," Santana shook her head lightly as she inched closer to me. She hung above me, suspended with barely any space between our lips. "Maybe this girl should kiss me and let me know she wants me to be her girlfr-"

I closed the distance between our lips by craning my neck forward, wrapping my arm around her neck and pulling her into me. I twisted and rolled her onto her back, pulling away just to peck at her lips again, over and over.

"Yes," I gasped happily. "Yes, a million times yes."

"Does that mean you'll stay home from work?" Santana smiled as she cupped my cheek.

"I wish," I murmured softly and nuzzled against her palm. "We've both missed enough work as it is."

"Fine," Santana sighed as I moved away from her and twisted to get out of bed.

"It's only a few hours," I laughed as I bent down to scoop up my clothes from the floor. Santana had her head propped up by her hand as she laid on the bed, looking up at me. She looked so sexy and alluring, it really took everything in me to not crawl back in bed and tear off what little clothing she had left.

"Then I would like to take my _girlfriend_ out for ice cream when we get off work," Santana said, swirling the index finger of her free hand along the creases in the blanket where I had been laying.

"I think that sounds like an awesome idea," I said, bending down to kiss her on the lips lightly. "Girlfriend."

Santana smiled and her cheeks got a little rosy.

* * *

><p>"-Mike!" I laughed as I was twirled in the air. He had come up from behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist unexpectedly.<p>

"How was your class?" Mike said once he had set me firmly back on the ground. I stumbled forward and turned around, giving him a cheerful smile.

"Good," I said. I didn't normally teach salsa classes, but it was a lot of fun. I thought I would have been rustier at it, but my body just reacted instinctively to the music, as usual. I stepped forward and grabbed Mike's hands to pull him to the middle of the floor. My iPod was still playing, so I swayed back and forth as I tugged on his hands. He laughed and nodded, twirling me around again, properly this time.

"Someone's happy," Mike said.

"Why do you say that?" I said, grinning.

"You're all smiles," Mike laughed. "I bet that was infectious in your class."

"Probably," I nodded.

"Any reason for it?" Mike said. He started to step backwards as he pulled me along to our dance. It was fun to be able to dance and talk at the same time. Most people I danced with in my classes would be too focused on making sure their steps were right to concentrate on anything else.

"I'm happy," I shrugged. Mike laughed as he shifted and pulled me along so that we were both moving sideways. I laughed and he twirled me around again and when he caught me, he bent me back so that I was looking up at him.

"Happy why?" Mike rose a brow. "Something to do with Santana?"

"Everything to do with Santana," I grinned. He let me up and I curtsied a little. "You're now speaking to the proud girlfriend of Santana Lopez."

"Aw," Mike cooed and wrapped me in a hug when I stood back up straight. I laughed, wrapping my arms around him and tried to whirl him around like he had when he first walked in, but he was a little too tall for me to do so.

"Official and everything, huh?" Mike said when we broke apart. I nodded vigorously. I spun around and took long, playful steps towards my bag at the back of the room, swaying from side to side as I moved.

"Excuse me? Sorry, I have a _girlfriend_," I said to an invisible stranger, waving my hand in the air. "What was that? Yes, I am in a relationship, thank you for asking."

"You're adorkable," Mike said, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. I smiled back at him as I slung the strap of my bag over my shoulder. He didn't look scary or intimidating like Quinn or Tina or even Santana did when they crossed their arms over their chests. He just looked calm, and maybe a little satisfied.

"I don't care," I shrugged and spun around again.

"I have a girlfriend. I'm Santana's girlfriend." I didn't want to stop saying it. It made my heart flutter with excitement. It was the first time I'd been anyone's anything. I wanted to be the best girlfriend ever. Maybe I would go home and do something romantic for Santana when she got back from work. Wait, we were going to go get ice cream. Maybe afterwards. I could get candles or something.

"Well, does Santana's _girlfriend_ want to go with me to Lucky Charms?" Mike said as he stepped towards me.

"Yes!" I cheered. A surprise visit at work. That was definitely something significant others did.

"Alright," Mike said. "But we have to take the subway. Tina took my car to work today."

"Tina's working too?"

"Why else would I want to go to Lucky Charms? To see _your_ girlfriend?" Mike laughed. My smile got impossibly wider. I couldn't help it. I was glad he kept saying girlfriend.

"I guess that would be silly," I nodded as he escorted me to the door.

Mike and I chatted a lot as we walked down the street towards the subway station. It was really easy to talk to Mike about almost everything. He had this really relaxed demeanor like nothing I said would be wrong or if it came out wrong, he wouldn't judge me for it. His favorite topic was food, but we managed to jump between talking about a chili dog vendor we passed and what kind of toppings were best on hot dogs to dance classes both at the studio and at our schools.

"Oh, don't let me forget," Mike said as he punched the buttons on the ticket machine for the subway. "Tina has Jeremy. Lil' guy stowed away in the back of our car last night."

"Phew! I was worried about him," I said as he handed me my ticket.

"Don't worry, we let him sleep inside," Mike said.

"Yeah? Good," I nodded. "He gets cold easily."

* * *

><p>A purple fuzzy face popped out of nowhere as Santana was lowering one of the chairs from the table. She hopped back in surprise, and Tina lowered Jeremy from her face and smiled brightly at the Latina.<p>

"Hey, chickadee," Tina said cheerfully. Santana rolled her eyes and set the chair down, but her lips remained curled in a smile.

"I think you mean chica," Santana said, walking to the next table. Tina set Jeremy down and pulled off one of the chairs to help her.

"No, it's a bird," Tina said. "A songbird to be exact. What were you singing just now?"

"Nothing," Santana said, averting her gaze.

"Sounded pretty. You and me... between sheets, was it?" Tina said, singing the bits of the song she managed to remember.

"It just doesn't get better than this," Santana sang back softly, her cheeks flushing as she continued to remove chairs from the table tops. Tina's smile grew impossibly brighter as she followed Santana, nodding at her to continue singing. The Latina turned her back shyly, but her voice trailed softly after her as she skirted around the tables.

"The many windswept yellow stickies of my mind," Santana continued quietly. "Are the molten, emotional front line... I couldn't care less, I'm transfixed in this absolute bliss." She continued along, humming the rest of the song. After she pulled the last chair down, she spun lightly on her feet around Rory as he passed. He stopped and stared after her as she made her way to the bar before looking up at Tina.

"She's unusually happy," Rory said in surprise. "I though' she hated day shifts."

"I know, right?" Tina wrinkled her nose and ruffled his hair before walking to the bar after Santana. Rory sighed and shook his head.

"No one tells me anythin'," he murmured and started to wipe down the tables Santana and Tina just finished uncovering.

"You're scaring Rory," Tina said, sliding into a stool at the bar. Santana looked up from the glass she was washing, raising a brow quizzically.

"I'm not allowed to be happy?"

"You are, you are," Tina laughed. "It's nice to see you so bubbly. How come you never sing and dance because of me?"

"Because you're not my girlfriend," Santana said quietly and narrowed her eyes, but her nose wrinkled slightly as a small laugh escaped her lips.

"Yeah? And Brittany is?" Tina asked. Santana nodded timidly as she set the cleaned glass on top of a small stack of them.

"You're so cute," Tina sighed, resting her chin in her palm. "I don't think I've ever seen you so enamored before."

"Heh," Santana exhaled. "Maybe not."

"And I thought you said you didn't have a heart," Tina winked. Santana straightened a little.

"Don't go thinking I've gone soft on you," Santana said, furrowing her brow.

"There's the scowl I know and love," Tina grinned. Santana rolled her eyes and busied herself with more cleaning as Tina stretched forward and grabbed a glass and filled it with soda.

"I'm glad you're happy, though, Santana," Tina said quietly.

"Why the sad tone?" Santana said, glancing up at her.

"What?"

"You said you're glad, but you frowned," Santana said, tilting the soapy glass in her hand towards the Asian.

"Oh," Tina looked down at her own glass and rotated it slowly in her hands. "I'm not sad, I'm... I don't know."

"Are you jealous?" Santana said. When Tina looked up, she snapped back a little in surprise. Santana was leaning in front of her, a soft smile on her lips.

"Of Brittany? What, no," Tina shook her head. "I'm glad you have her. It's just... You're my best friend, Santana. I'm happy for you, but..."

"But you _are_ sad," Santana said. "Because you don't know what this means for you and me."

Tina was silent, swirling her finger gently over the rim of her glass. After a while, she nodded.

"Just because I have Brittany doesn't mean you and I are going to stop being friends," Santana said, placing her hand on top of Tina's glass and dragging it away. Tina looked back up at Santana.

"I know that," Tina shrugged.

"You don't sound very convincing," Santana said. "Look, Tina, you're my best friend, too. You deal with all my bullshit, and as much as you can overdo it sometimes with trying to help steer me in the right direction, you know I appreciate it, right? Where would I be if it weren't for you?"

"Probably still living in on-campus housing, hating your roommate?" Tina said quietly.

"Exactly," Santana nodded. "And yes, things are going to be different. But I hope you'll still be there for me when I need you."

"Of course," Tina nodded.

"Good," Santana lifted her hand and tapped Tina gently on the nose. "Also, no more hiding things from me. I don't want to find out three years after the fact that I slept with someone and didn't remember it."

"I didn't sleep with you," Tina frowned, wrinkling her nose as she sat back.

"I know," Santana shrugged. "I just wanted to make sure."

"I'm sorry for not telling you about it," Tina murmured.

"You bet your ass you're sorry," Santana said. "But I hope it's not because I'm a bad kisser."

"Er," Tina flushed, averting her gaze and suddenly finding the empty stool next to her extremely fascinating.

"I knew it," Santana pumped her fist into the air. "You liked kissing me. Admit it."

"-I did not!" Tina snapped back, stretching forward and shoving her hand into Santana's shoulder. Santana caught her hand and grinned slyly, leaning closely to Tina's face as she pulled her close. The Asian gulped, and after a long pause, Santana let her go.

"I'm kidding," Santana said, flicking her hand in the air. She glanced up and saw Rory staring at them from the other end of the room. "Payback for yelling at me in Myrtle Beach."

"I didn't mean to-"

"Water under the bridge," Santana said. "But you butt into things with me and Brittany again or make her uncomfortable, and friends or not, I will beat the shit out of you."

"Duly noted," Tina said, nodding quickly.

"And you know I'm good for that," Santana said, pointing her finger at Tina seriously. Tina's eyes flicked up to the healing cut on Santana's eyebrow. Santana dropped her gaze and went back to washing the glasses. Tina sipped silently on her soda for a while, until she found the courage to speak again.

"...Santana, have you thought about how you're going to talk to Quinn and Rachel about this?"

"I don't know," Santana shrugged. "It's a conversation I should probably have with Brittany first."

"That's sweet," Tina nodded. "Yeah, I think the both of you need to sit down and kind of establish some things."

"Tina, we're going to move at whatever pace we feel like," Santana said, looking up at her. "I'll tell them when I'm ready to - when _we _are ready to."

"I just don't want you to have to sneak around anymore," Tina sighed. "Or a repeat of how Mike and I found out."

"If you're suggesting Brittany and I sleep in separate beds again, I swear to god-"

"I just think you need to be careful," Tina said quietly. "You have the apartment to yourselves until Saturday, but then what, Santana?"

Santana's shoulders dropped slightly as she leaned away from the sink and shook her head.

"I don't know," Santana said. "Yeah, maybe Brittany and I should come up with a game plan. We'll figure it out. Until then, you're not going to say anything, right?"

"I wouldn't do that to you." Tina's brow furrowed.

"I want you to put an end to Operation Lady Pants," Santana said sternly. "And fork over any and all photos you two have of us."

"That's fair," Tina nodded.

"Honestly, you and Quinn are a pain in the ass sometimes," Santana grumbled.

* * *

><p>Mike and I made our way down to the subway we needed to take and shuffled inside. It was really crowded, so we had to stand, but luckily we managed to get ahold of a pair of handles. Sometimes there were so many people it was hard to find anything to hold on to. The train jolted and I lurched to the side. It kind of hurt my arm a bit, but I managed to straighten up. I twisted and apologized to the man I bumped into.<p>

"Not a problem, dollface," the man winked. He kept his eyes trained on me, looking me up and down. I felt my own eyes widened a little and I held my mouth open a little as I averted my gaze. I suddenly felt really exposed, because I was still wearing my dance clothes, which consisted mostly of a skin tight tank top and shorts today. Even though I wasn't looking directly at the man, I could still feel his gaze on me, and he wasn't looking at my face. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I was suddenly pulled back. I looked up and saw Mike's expression harden as he stared sternly back at the stranger.

"Back off, she's taken," Mike said. He nudged me and shuffled to switch places with me before wrapping his arm protectively over my shoulders. I huddled as close as I could to him, hoping that maybe I could use his body as a shield to cover myself up a little. I wished I had worn my jacket to work, but it was really warm today.

"C'mon," Mike said, when the train stopped again. I was so glad we to get off the subway, and Mike kept his hold on me so that we didn't get separated when we were pushed and shoved out into the station. When we managed to get through the crowd, he gave me a tight squeeze.

"Thanks," I said quietly.

"I hate guys like that," Mike said.

"I should have worn a jacket, or told him off," I shrugged.

"No, you shouldn't have to," Mike said. "You should be able to feel comfortable in your own skin no matter where you are. You're lucky Santana wasn't here. She would have been on him faster than you can say, 'Lima Heights Adjacent.'"

I laughed and knocked into him. "I'm glad she didn't, I don't like her getting into fights. Not for my sake."

"Whether or not she got into a fight, she would have been there for you," Mike said. "And when she's not, me and Tina, and Quinn and Rachel too, we're here for you too."

"Thanks," I murmured sheepishly. It was embarrassing for some reason. I knew that. That they were there for me. Didn't I? It sounded weird to have to be told.

"Do you wanna see if we can sneak in the back entrance so you can surprise Santana?" Mike said, giving me another, more playful squeeze. I brightened significantly.

"Yes," I grinned. "Let's do that! How will we do that though? Are you a ninja?"

"No," Mike laughed. "I'll text Tina, hold on."

"Tell her to get Jeremy, too," I said, leaning over to look at the screen of his phone after he unwrapped his arm from around me to text her. The last message from Tina was displayed partially on the screen.

_"...of course, but I still think they're scared. Not necessarily in a bad way. I'm trying to talk to Santana about it, but I think she's still on cloud nine."_

"Talk to Santana about what?" I asked.

"Oh," Mike finished sending the text and put his phone away. "Um, you two and your relationship. Tina's still a little concerned-"

"She doesn't have to be, Santana and I are fine," I said, huffing lightly as I leaned back a little.

"I know that," Mike smiled. "Tina just means that as exciting as a new relationship is, it's also kind of scary, right?"

"...I guess," I nodded, letting my hands unfold from across my chest.

"I know we talked yesterday about it," Mike said quietly. "With it all feeling surreal. Is there anything else you want to talk about? I'm happy to help in any way I can."

"Hm," I hummed. I knew from the expression Mike had that he wasn't just asking because Tina asked him to. He was nice and sincere. It showed in not just his words, but his actions too. I was glad I got to work with someone like him, even more so now that we were becoming friends.

I wondered what sort of things I could talk to him about. I didn't have to hide anything from him, now that he knew about me and Santana. And I was really excited about being Santana's girlfriend. Mike had been dating Tina forever, right? He knew exactly how to be a good boyfriend. I saw enough of them together to know that. I wondered if when he kissed Tina if he got all tingly and wanted to melt. Or maybe that was just because everything with Santana and I was new and fresh. Or maybe it was just what kissing girls felt like. But Santana wasn't the first girl I'd kissed, so that didn't make sense. I furrowed my brow.

"If you think of anything, let me know," Mike said. We were just getting to Lucky Charms, but we had to wrap around the back. "No pressure."

"Oh, wait," I said, catching his arm. "I don't know if you can answer this, but, like... When you have sex with a girl-"

"I'm not sure I want to talk to you about that," Mike said, blushing. "I mean, if it's really something you want to know about, we can talk, but, I mean... It's Santana- I've known her forever, and, it's just-"

I laughed and looped my arm in his, dragging him forward towards the back entrance.

"It's okay, I've got it pretty much figured out," I shrugged. "But if you have any tips-"

"I, uh, well, um-" Mike's eyes widened nervously. The door to the back entrance shot open a second later, and Tina's head poked out.

"Oh, good, I thought that was you two," Tina smiled.

"Tinathankgod," Mike said, pulling away from me and enveloping her in a tight hug. Tina gave me a bewildered look as I snuck past her.

* * *

><p>Santana was inside, turned towards the mirrored shelf that held all the bottles of alcohol behind the bar, busy mixing a drink. I pressed my index finger to my lips as Rory caught sight of me from the opposite end of the room and crept towards her, keeping low as I moved along the exterior of the bar. I slipped into the seat just behind her and rested my chin in my palm. She was humming softly to herself and there was a subtle sway to her hips. I grinned as my gaze fell on her butt. I shook my head lightly and looked back up to the mirror so I could see her face. She was focused, but her lips had a hint of a smile on them as she worked.<p>

"Hey," I said quietly. I meant to say something sexy or even cheesy, but it was the only thing that escaped my throat. She looked up and caught my gaze in the mirror. She spun around quickly, abandoning the drink she'd been mixing, and smiled brightly at me.

"Brittany!" she exclaimed, rushing towards me, stopped only because there was a bar between us. She leaned forward, but caught herself inches before kissing me. Instead, she wrapped her arms around my neck, and I had to stretch over the counter to return the hug.

"When did you come in?" Santana said once she had settled back on her side of the bar.

"Just now," I said, pointing to towards the back entrance. Mike and Tina were walking towards us, hand in hand, and Mike waved with his free hand.

"I was about to text you," Santana said as she waved back at Mike. "Oh, wait, hold on."

She knelt down, and I strained to see what she was doing as she reached beneath the bar. When she reappeared into my view, she was holding Jeremy. She wiggled him forward and bopped me on the forehead with his horn before lowering his muzzle to my nose.

"I'll keep him behind the bar until I get off, okay?" Santana said, tossing him back under the bar. "Not really the time or place for purple unicorns."

"Or sweet lady kisses," I whispered with a small frown. Santana glanced around the bar, and I turned to look around too. They had just opened, so there weren't really anyone except us around, but I think Santana was more concerned about Rory. She grabbed my hand and gestured for me to stand up.

"Come here," Santana said, walking with my hand in hers as she led me down the bar. She opened the hatch to let me inside, raising her brow at Rory to make sure it was okay as she pulled me forward. He shrugged and went back to sweeping.

"Maybe I still need time to adjust to this," Santana murmured. "But I'm glad you came to visit."

"Me too," I smiled. I was happy to be with her. I did want to kiss her, but I always wanted to kiss her, so I reasoned I just had to be patient. I'd rather be able to spend time with her as much as possible without kisses than force her to feel uncomfortable.

"Am I allowed to be back here?" I said, glancing at Rory again.

"As long as you don't touch the alcohol and Rory keeps his mouth shut," Santana said a little louder.

"I don' know what yer talkin' 'bout, Santana," Rory said, as he walked past us on the outside of the bar with the broom in hand towards the back.

"Good," Santana said as she turned back to me.

"How much longer do you have work?" I asked, stepping closer to her. I could still hug her, right?

"A few hours," Santana said, raising her hand and ruffling my hair. I wrinkled my nose as Santana leaned forward and whispered, "Hopefully, I can keep my hands off you."

"Would it be better if I left?" I asked sheepishly.

"No, I want you to stay," Santana said, quickly grabbing my hand and swinging it lightly back and forth. "Please stay. This way I don't have to drive all the way home to take you to get ice cream."

"Haha, okay," I laughed and nodded. Santana pulled me down the bar back to where she had been making a drink.

"I suddenly know why Tina asked me to make this," Santana said as her brow furrowed. "I was wondering, since there aren't any customers right now, except that old guy that's always here."

"Do you have to throw it away? Whatever it is?"

"It's an amaretto sour," Santana nodded. "You want it?"

"Is it good?"

"It's sweet," Santana said. "But also a little tangy too."

"Yum," I grinned. She handed me the glass and I took it with both hands. "Can you show me how that works?" I nodded at the soda dispenser thing as I took a sip of the drink. It was tangy, but I liked it.

"It works how you think it would," Santana said, raising her brow. "You press a button, soda comes out."

"Can I try?" I asked.

"Okay," Santana laughed. "Sure. Since I made a drink for you, you can make one for me." Santana stepped forward and grabbed a glass from a stack of them and held it up for me.

"What kind of soda do you like?" I asked as I took the glass.

"Surprise me," Santana said, leaning against the counter. I picked up the nozzle or gun or remote, I wasn't really sure what to call it. It had a nozzle on it but it also had buttons. They had little labels on them with the different types of flavors. I held the nozzle over the glass and pressed the button. I was surprised by the pressure and let out a little squeak of excitement when carbonated liquid shot into the glass and immediately released the button. The soda fizzed and bubbled at the bottom of the glass, barely filling it an inch.

"Oh my gosh, that's so cool," I said, holding the glass up to Santana. "You get paid to do this?"

"Yes...?" Santana laughed. Her eyes were squinted a little because she was smiling so big as she shook her head. "It's not that exciting, is it?"

"It is, look at this!" I said selecting another button and squirting more soda into the glass. It was a different flavor and mixed together a weird color.

"I'm not drinking that," Santana shook her head.

"But you said to surprise you," I pouted.

"You just mixed grape soda with coca cola," Santana said, furrowing her brow. I pressed another button, and a weird pale yellowish green color came out.

"And lime," Santana winced. "That's going to taste totally gross."

I pressed all the other buttons until it was full. Each time I did, Santana protested a little louder, and in the end, we were giggling at how gross it looked.

"Please don't make me drink this," Santana said, picking the glass up.

"I bet a cherry will make it taste better," I said, stretching forward and grabbing a cherry out of a cup that was sitting next to the machine. I plopped in the glass and grinned. Santana stared at the cherry as it bobbed up and down in the dark, almost purple-ish brown soda. Her nose was wrinkled slightly and she was trying her best not to grimace.

"I'll try it if you do," I said.

"That's your bargain?" Santana said. "I'm not drinking it, even if you have to."

"I'll give you ...a kiss?" I whispered the last bit as I stepped a little closer to her. She giggled and flushed.

"You're going to kiss me anyway," Santana whispered back, scratching her finger playfully at my stomach.

"I'll withhold kisses if you don't at least try it," I said, wiggling my eyebrows. For a moment, Santana looked shocked, but within a second she recovered and straightened a little.

"I don't think you could," Santana said boldly as she rose a brow at me. I grinned sheepishly, because she called my bluff.

"I'll try it first, then," I said, grabbing the glass and taking a gulp. It was weird. Like, definitely sweet because all the flavors of soda that were in it were sweet and sugary, but it was also really hard to pinpoint what it actually was. I think the coke and the root beer made it strange. Maybe the grape, too.

"...what does it taste like?" Santana whispered.

"I have no idea," I said, wrinkling my nose a little as I laughed. I tried to pass the drink back to her.

"No, no, if you don't like it, I won't," Santana said, waving her hands at the glass as I shoved it towards her.

"Come on, it's not so bad," I said. "Just weird!"

"Ugh, fine," Santana groaned. She slowly raised the glass, holding it a few inches under her nose as she stared at it with a grossed out expression on her face.

"You don't really have to," I murmured. She smiled weakly and then took a small sip from the glass.

"Tastes...like...cough syrup," she coughed, and grimaced again as she set down the glass. I fished the cherry out and popped it in my mouth. I wiggled the stem against my lips and my eyebrows at Santana.

"Cherry's still good," I said, crushing it as I spoke. "Can this do anything else?"

"The soda dispenser?" Santana asked, averting her gaze from my face as I held it up. "No, it just dispenses soda."

"This one shoots out water, right?" I said, pointing to the button that was labeled 'water.'

"Yeah, why?"

"Just wondering," I said, before pointing it at her and pressing the button. She shrieked and jumped back, but I still hit her with the short burst of water. It quickly soaked through her tank top, but luckily it was black and didn't show too much.

"Brittany!" Santana said, lashing her hand at the gun nozzle thing, but I stepped back and held it up threateningly. She tensed and held her hands in the air, but I could tell by the way she was standing that she wasn't giving up quite yet. I grinned and pressed the button again, but this time she sprang to the side and caught my hand.

"Give me the nozzle," She growled as she caught me in a bear hug. I struggled, trying to twist my hand so that the nozzle was pointing at her, and when I did, I held the button down. She cried out as we both got splashed with water.

"Brittany!"

* * *

><p>"Well, fuck," Santana said, holding her hand out to hold the door open with Jeremy tucked under her other arm as she peered out the back entrance to Lucky Charms. I was huddled next to her and we were standing in the doorway as we stared out at the alleyway. It was pouring.<p>

"Does this mean we're not getting ice cream anymore?" I said quietly. Santana's brow furrowed for a split second and she smiled sympathetically at me.

"Do you still want to go get ice cream?" she asked.

"I think hot cocoa would be more suitable," I said, extending my hand to feel the rain. It was cool, despite how warm it had been earlier in the day.

"Then let's go home, make some cocoa, snuggle up on the couch-"

"And watch a movie?" I said brightly.

"-I was going to say get our sweet lady kisses on," Santana murmured. "But we can do whatever you want."

"I like your plan," I leaned closer to her, bumping my shoulder against hers. She smiled and stepped back from the door letting it swing closed as she handed me Jeremy.

"What are you doing?" I stared at her as she took of her jacket and lifted it to the side and over my shoulders.

"Santana, you'll be cold," I protested quietly. She stepped closer to me as she tugged the collar together and then patted my arms.

"You're hardly wearing pants," Santana smiled. "Come on. On three, we'll run for it."

"How far is your car?"

"Down the block," Santana said, grasping my hand. I wiggled my fingers around to intertwine with hers and took in a breath and held it as she counted.

"-Three!" she shouted, throwing the door open and tugging me forward. Even as fast as we were running, it only took a few seconds for the downpour to completely drench us. I squealed and shouted as we jumped over a puddle. I hugged Jeremy tightly to my chest and had to crane over him a bit to keep him from getting wet, but I don't think it helped. The headlights of Santana's car lit up as she unlocked it before we reached it.

Santana let go of my hand so I could run to my side, but I caught her fingers before she pulled away completely and tugged her back to me. She definitely wasn't expecting it, because she spun around and nearly crashed into me as I leaned forward to collide my lips with hers. It was wet and she was cold, but I didn't care. I let go of her hand because I still had to hold Jeremy and ran my free hand up to the back of her head, gripping tightly through her wet hair to pull her closer as I sucked on her lips. Even though she was surprised, she didn't waste any time in her recovery. She lifted her hands to cup my cheeks, letting out a little huff as she kissed me back. She only broke away to gasp for breath, because somehow our kissing became desperate and urgent. I held her close to me, realizing we were both shivering a little from the cold. But she just looked so sexy. I stared down at her with my wet forehead pressed to hers, and we started giggling.

"You're s-so fucking hot," Santana chattered.

"I th-think you m-mean c-cold," I tried to laugh. She tilted her head towards her car and I nodded. We broke apart to scramble into her car, but the moment I tossed Jeremy in the back seat and we were free from the freezing rain, she had reattached her lips to mine. I slid my hands up and down her arms to try to warm her up and her hands fell to my bare legs as she pressed further into me.

"Santana," I murmured between when I broke contact for a second to gasp for breath. Santana was right. I definitely would not be able to withhold kisses from her.

* * *

><p>It was hard not to just jump Santana and tear her clothes off the moment we got inside, but we were both still so cold. We separated momentarily to change in our own rooms, because I didn't have any clean clothes in Santana's room. I think maybe I should just leave clothes in there, or just borrow some of hers in the future. By the time I'd finished changing, Santana was already in the kitchen, bustling with the stove. I ruffled my hair in a towel and draped it over my shoulders before I tiptoed up behind her and enveloped her in a hug.<p>

"Hey, baby," I cooed, pressing my lips to her ear. She let out a soft laugh and turned her head to kiss me softly. Her body was warmer than mine, so I snuggled into her.

"Still cold?" she said, leaning back against me.

"Mm," I hummed.

"The cocoa will warm you up," Santana said, shifting a bit so she could stir the warming milk. I rested my chin on her shoulder and watched as she added the ingredients.

"Do you still want to watch a movie?" Santana asked.

"What movie?" I mumbled.

"Well, we own like every Disney movie ever," Santana said, flicking the spoon up towards the living room. "Courtesy of one Rachel Berry. Although, I think Quinn provided a few of them."

"Yeah?"

"Mm, she likes the Fox and the Hound," Santana shrugged. "And those older Disney movies, like Robin Hood and 101 Dalmatians. Have you ever seen The Great Mouse Detective?"

"My sister loves that one," I said, nuzzling my nose into her neck.

"Anyway, what do you want to watch?" Santana asked.

"I don't care," I sighed. "Whatever you want to watch."

"Aladdin? Lion King? Hercules?"

"Hercules," I nodded, kissing her neck softly. I watched that one like a million times with my sister, so I figured it would be good to watch with Santana, because I wouldn't need to pay attention so much to know what was going on. She finished making the cocoa and turned the stove off, shrugging her shoulder against me lightly so that she could move to get us mugs. She told me to get a blanket so we could cuddle on the couch.

When I came back downstairs with my comforter, Santana was sitting on the couch with the movie and everything already set up. I hopped towards her and bounced onto the couch, quickly snuggling into her. She leaned forward and grabbed a mug for me before settling back and wrapping her arm around my shoulder as I spread the blanket over us.

"Sorry we didn't get to go get ice cream," Santana said, pressing her lips to my forehead. I looked up at her as I sipped the hot cocoa.

"I can eat ice cream whenever," I said quietly. "I was just really excited to spend more time with you. This is just as good." Santana snuggled into me, resting her head on top of mine because she was sitting up more than I was.

"Before we start the movie, can I ask you something?" Santana's voice was small, and I glanced up at her. From what I could see, her brow was furrowed and she looked a little worried. I twisted and kissed her cheek.

"You can ask me anything you want," I murmured and then kissed the same spot again. She smiled and set her own mug aside.

"Do... do you want to tell Quinn and Rachel about us?" Santana looked down at me cautiously.

"Like, right now?" I said, pulling my mug away from my lips. "Cause it's like, kind of late and we'd have to call them and I don't know if this is something we should tell them over the phone."

"No, no, Brittany," Santana smiled. "I mean... are you okay with us being open? I know before it felt like it was mostly me hiding us."

"You were scared," I said softly. "I know that."

"I know, but you also were worried about how it would affect everyone else, right?" Santana said. "I'm _still_ a little scared. But Tina said she doesn't think it's good to put more pressure on _us _by hiding it and stressing ourselves out by being secret all the time."

"Santana," I murmured. That made sense, but we'd been fine sneaking around before. We had been moving at just the right pace, but I guess I was glad Santana had opened up and had asked me to be her girlfriend. I think I was more scared now, not because of anyone else, but because I wanted to do Santana right. Maybe it would be good to tell Quinn and Rachel, but the difference was... we lived with them.

"Do you think they'll be mad?" I asked quietly.

"What? No," Santana shook her head. "Absolutely not. Concerned and worried, probably even happy, but not mad. Well, Rachel will probably be shocked."

I let out a soft laugh and nodded my head.

"If you want to tell them, I think it's a good idea," I said. "It'll make things easier for you, anyway."

"What do you mean?" Santana furrowed her brow.

"You're scared of heights," I said, leaning forward and setting my mug down. "And yet you sneak across the fire escape every other night to be with me."

Santana's cheeks flushed.

"I guess I could always just sneak into your room from now on," I said, wrinkling my nose at her. She gave me a coy smile and leaned forward to kiss my forehead.

"I don't want either of us to have to sneak around anymore," Santana murmured. "I want to be able to kiss you whenever I want. But I still need time to figure out how to tell them. They might not like that we're sleeping in each other's rooms even if we tell them, though."

"Why?" I pouted.

"I don't know, I mean, everyone seems to think we're moving too fast," Santana said quietly.

"I don't," I said. "Had I known you were interested when you first bumped into me at the dance studio, I would have given you my number."

"All that wasted time," Santana groaned, lifting her hand in the air. I stretched forward and grabbed her hand and linked my pinkie in hers.

"No, it happened perfectly," I said, leaning forward to catch her lips. She tilted back and placed her free hand between our faces and I ended up kissing her fingers instead. I frowned as I drew back.

"What?" I said.

"I kind of did a bad thing," Santana whispered. My brow furrowed and she glanced to the side.

"I kind of promised Tina we would try to not sleep in each other's beds. So that, like, when Quinn and Rachel get here, we won't be all desperate and needy if they insist we separate. Or if we don't tell them, that we can survive not sneaking around."

"That's a terrible idea," I pouted. "I don't like sleeping without you..."

"We just need to try, baby," Santana said, kissing my forehead. "I don't like sleeping without you either, but I don't want a repeat of Myrtle Beach."

I drew back a little and nodded. I guess that made sense. I was so scared seeing Santana upset like that. I had no idea how Quinn and Rachel would react. It was probably better to be safe than sorry, but I wished Santana hadn't made a promise to Tina without letting me have a say.

"Let's start the movie, okay?" I said, reaching forward and grabbing the remote. Santana tensed a little as I turned the movie on, but she relaxed when I nestled back into her arms.

"I'm sorry," Santana mumbled. I shrugged lightly and turned to peck her lips quickly.

"It's okay," I said. "Just let me soak up as much girlfriend time as I can before bed, then."

"I'm yours, 24/7, Britt," Santana smiled and hugged me tightly. "You'll just have to close your eyes and find me in your dreams, okay?" I nodded and laid my head against her. I didn't say anything else, because truth be told, that was exactly what I was scared of.

* * *

><p>Santana and I had lost focus on the movie around the time Hercules started singing about dreaming of far off places and people that loved him. I had twisted around so that I was laying on top of her, the covers falling down around my waist. She was laying on her back, one arm lazily resting behind her head, the other pressed against my back as I kissed her. It was soft and slow and unlike the urgency and insistent need we had to be close to each other when we were making out in the rain or in her car. I liked both, but right now I was in her arms, completely relaxed. I don't know how long we'd been kissing, but that wasn't important. All that was important to me at the moment was how soft and wet Santana's kisses were and that she was perfectly fine with my tongue dictating the position of hers.<p>

Her hand slid from around my back and started to tickle the skin that was exposed because of how my shirt had ridden up. I smiled into my kiss as I drew back my tongue, pressing hard down on her lips as her fingers scratched up over my stomach and pushed underneath my shirt. I felt her shift a little and her other hand moved from behind her head to skate her fingers through my hair. I shuddered as her fingernails dragged down on the back of my scalp, and let my tongue find its way back into her mouth. When her hand moved beneath my shirt to cup my breast, I let out a soft moan and she giggled. The laugh distracted me from our kissing long enough for me to overhear the television again.

_If there's a prize for rotten judgement... I guess I've already won that. _

I usually really liked the song. It was probably my favorite part of the whole movie, but I suddenly felt myself tense against Santana. Suddenly I felt that sinking feeling my the pit of my stomach, and if I had any words I was going to say, they would have been caught by the knot that was forming in my throat. Maybe that wasn't a knot, I think it was my heart. Because it started pounding rapidly again. I tried to hide how nervous- was it nerves? I guess it was nerves. I tried to mask whatever it was by dipping down and kissing her again, but it was shaky and I ended up just resting my forehead to hers with my eyes clenched closed. An unsteady gasp escaped my lips when I felt her hand squeeze against my chest.

"Britt?" Santana murmured. I opened my eyes, slowly. I wanted to curse, because I was messing this up. This wonderful, perfect evening of us being home alone together and I should have been okay because we finally talked. And I was her girlfriend. She was mine. Why was my heart racing like I'd just finished running a marathon?

Santana's hand withdrew from my shirt and both her hands moved to cup my cheeks. I felt really guilty and closed my eyes again to avoid seeing the probably disappointed look on her face. She pressed a kiss to my lips as she pulled me forward and then let her one hand slip away to rest over my heart.

"What's wrong, baby?" Santana whispered softly. I shook my head and dipped down to try and kiss her again. She let out a soft laugh against my mouth and wrapped her arms around my back. She pulled me down, pressing me into her body as she tilted her head away from me so that I could rest my cheek against her neck. I could feel the soothing pace of her heart beating in contrast to my rapid, freaking out heart.

"Brittany-?"

"I-It's nothing," I shook my head. I shifted and tucked my arms tightly to her sides.

"Nothing has got your heart racing a million beats a second," Santana said, letting her fingers tickle through my hair. I stared out at the living room as she continued to stroke my head and her other hand moved to run up and down my arm. She was so sweet and kind and patient with me. I felt like I was repeating what happened when I wouldn't kiss her before. I was being stupid. So stupid.

"It's all a little overwhelming, huh?"

I blinked and slowly peeled my face away from her and looked up.

"As much as I can or you can say that we're okay," Santana said softly as she picked at a strand of my hair. "We still have to give ourselves time to adjust."

"I'm sorr-"

"For what?" Santana said, tilting her head down to look at me. "It's fine, Britt. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. You can take however long you need, as long as it's okay for me to wait with you."

"You're wonderful," I murmured, nuzzling my nose against her collarbone and burying my face into her skin. She was always soft and even though we'd been soaked by the rain earlier, she still smelt so good. She squeezed me lightly and I hummed out a soft sigh of gratitude.

"Britt, you asked me before what I was so afraid of," Santana said softly. "Maybe you don't even know. But you can tell me when you do."

"How did I get so lucky?" I murmured. She squeezed my arm and I sat up a little to look at her.

"You're an amazing girlfriend," I whispered. "You know exactly what to say to make me feel better."

"I doubt that," Santana smiled. "But I will try to do my best."

"Now you're just being modest," I smiled. She leaned forward and kissed my nose. I wrinkled it and my grin grew a little.

"I think you're the only person who would think that," Santana laughed. I wiggled up a little and pressed my lips to hers. She stopped giggling and hummed softly beneath my kiss.

"I see you for who you are," I murmured. "And you're my favorite person ever."

"Stop it, you're making me blush," Santana whispered.

"I like making your body react to things I say," I said slyly as I pulled away from her lips. "Or things I do..."

Santana inhaled sharply and I giggled this time before pressing another kiss to her lips.

* * *

><p>The movie ended, and it was still raining outside. Hard. Like, cats and dogs hard, except I never knew why people said that. Lord Tubbington hated water. Maybe it had to do with the way dogs peed. That might make more sense. I turned to Santana to ask her, but then there was a bright flash of light and a loud clap after that made it feel like the whole room shook. It was just me, though, because I had jumped.<p>

"Whoa," Santana said, grabbing her mug of cocoa from the coffee table as she looked across the room to the kitchen, where the window was. "I think the storm is moving closer."

I curled into her, gripping my mug with both hands. She smiled down at me and wrapped her arm over my shoulder to pull me closer to her. She pressed her lips on my forehead and I felt myself relax a little.

"Scared much?" she laughed. I nodded my head furiously and she quieted. She took the mug from my hands and placed both of ours on the table and helped me up. "C'mon."

"Wh-what are we doing?" I asked as she pulled me up the stairs.

"You'll see, hold on," Santana smiled and tugged me along. She was taking steps two at a time until I tripped. Then she helped me up and waited until I caught up to pull me along the rest of the stairs up to my room. She twirled me around and then hugged me as she let us both fall into my bed, nuzzling my neck with her nose. I giggled, but pressed my hands to her stomach to get her to stop.

"Santana, you promised Tina we'd stay in our own rooms. It's late," I warned, knowing that if she started doing anything more than cuddling me, we were definitely going to end up passing out - probably naked - in my bed.

"Screw Tina," Santana said, letting her lips press against my neck. She started to move up and over my jaw, but then there was another flash and clap of thunder. I squeaked and jumped, bumping my head against hers.

"Ow," she scowled. Her frown was brief, disappearing when she saw the scared look on my face. She sat up a little and helped me up.

"No way am I letting you sleep alone tonight," Santana said.

"But you promised. I don't want to break a promise, Santana."

She sighed and looked down at my mattress. A smile formed on her lips and she patted her hand against my thigh a few times to get me to stand up.

"What are you doing?" I giggled as she started to pull off my covers and then my bedsheets.

"I... promised," She said, moving around and starting to lift the mattress up. "That we would sleep in our own beds."

"Right," I nodded.

"Never said anything about our own rooms," Santana grinned as she pushed the mattress onto its side.

"But it'll never fit in your room, Santana," I laughed.

"It will if we make a mattress fort," Santana winked. "And technically, if the fort is composed of both our beds, we'll be sleeping in both our own beds."

"I like this plan," I smiled, moving around to help her.

It took a little bit of work to get the mattress down the hallway and into her room. We ended up having to slide partially into Quinn's room and then back out to get it into Santana's. I was worried about getting it back into my own room later, but I secretly hoped it would get stuck so I wouldn't have to sleep without Santana ever again.

We propped her mattress in the space between her bed and the wall, and then I ran back to my room to grab my sheets. We managed to make a sort of tent out of the two mattresses, and I insisted we take our time to decorate our new fort. I was surprised she caved in so easily.

She dragged me down the hallway to the closet where the air mattresses were stored and reached into the top shelf. She pulled out a box of white Christmas lights, and I beamed brightly. We spent a good twenty minutes untangling the lights and trying to figure out a way to hang them up. Santana ended up stealing a box of safety pins from Rachel's room, and we managed to spiderweb them along the tent and around the room. It was a good thing Santana didn't let Lord Tubbington in her room, because he probably would have gotten tangled.

"Alright, done," Santana said, placing her hands on her hips, looking proudly at our handiwork. She turned to me with an eager grin on her face, but I ducked beneath one of the string of lights and turned towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Santana said, her lips forming a small pout.

"Our castle needs to be guarded by a dragon," I said, disappearing down the hall. When I returned, I had Jeremy in my arms, and Santana rolled her eyes.

"He's a unicorn, not a dragon."

"Mythical creature, same difference," I laughed. "Jeremy can be anything he wants to be." I said, poking her twice in the stomach with Jeremy's horn as I spoke, ending by kissing her on the nose.

She smiled and pulled away from me as she placed Jeremy at the top of our fort, arranging him so that he was facing the door.

"Very intimidating," she said. Another clap of thunder made me jump, but luckily I managed to avoid tangling myself in the lights. Santana wrapped her arms around me and kissed my forehead.

"I think we should get inside before it gets worse," Santana said, looking up at her ceiling.

"We are inside," I giggled.

"No, it's wet and cold out here," Santana said, raising a hand up to try and shield us from imaginary rain. "Come on, quickly, or you'll get sick."

"O-okay," I giggled. She lifted up the flap to our tent and pulled me in. I fell on my back into her covers and she shuffled in next to me. She sat up enough to look down at me and I smiled.

"It's definitely a lot more cozy in here," I whispered softly as I lifted my hand to cup her cheek. She wrinkled her nose and dipped down to kiss my lips. I sighed and wrapped my arms around her neck. I couldn't even hear the rain anymore from inside the tent.

"I like our fort," I murmured between kisses. Santana sat up a little and smiled.

"I think you mean castle," she nuzzled her nose to mine. "I mean, it _is_ guarded by a dragon."

"And you can see the stars," I said, tilting my head to the side and gesturing at the lights that shone brightly against the fabric of my sheets that draped at our side. Santana hummed quietly and leaned down to kiss my neck. I realized she wasn't just making a soft sound out of content, but she was actually humming a tune. I smiled and pressed my lips to her cheek when she moved up.

"Are you singing?" I giggled.

"Maybe," Santana laughed. "'Cause you're the one for me, for me. And I'm the one for you, for you." She pressed light kisses on my lips and I wrapped my arms around her neck.

"You take the both of us, of us, and we're the perfect two," she sang softly into my ear. It was silly, but it was sweet too. She didn't have to whisper or be quiet, but it was soothing. Just like how I didn't need to put Jeremy on the top of our 'castle' because no one else was home for him to protect us from. Just the rain, really.

"We're the perfect two," she repeated. "Baby, me and you."

"It's like I'm in my own Disney movie," I smiled and she smiled back.

"Don't know if I could ever be without you, 'cause girl you complete me," Santana murmured as her hands tickled down my arms and towards the base of my shirt. "And in time I know that we'll both see... that we're all we need."

I sat up a little to help her remove my shirt, catching her lips in mine once she had pulled it off me. As much as I liked hearing her sing, especially when she sang to me, I wanted her as close to me as possible. She smiled and continued to hum as she tickled her fingers to my back and fiddled with my bra. I realized I should be helping in the process of removing our clothes, but the way her lips vibrated against mine as she hummed tickled and made kissing her more tingly than ever. I managed to slide my hands down her back and start to bunch up her shirt, but that was about as much progress as I made. She forced me sit back a little to pull my bra off my arms. I think she realized I was being useless, because she quickly pulled off her own shirt and bra before leaning down into me.

"When her smile came back, and I didn't feel half as horrible," Santana murmured, pressing her lips to mine. She had changed songs, and I actually knew this one.

"She gave me a heart attack just because she looked so adorable," I tried to sing back, but she started tickling me as her hands lowered to my waist. I squirmed and laughed, probably being more of a hindrance than help in her efforts to remove my pants. She slipped my pajama pants and my underwear off together once she managed to get me still enough to slip them down my legs. I kicked them off so she didn't have to move away. Again, I tried to help, but she ended up just pulling down her own shorts and wiggled out of them herself.

"But she got a tan, and I got a sunburn," I giggled, tracing my fingers down a subtle line on her skin down to her breast as she crawled back on top of me. She dipped down and met my lips again as I pressed my palm up against her chest. Her kiss was sweet. Stern, but gentle, and when she pulled away, she looked at me with the warmest look in her eyes. I wondered if it was because they were brown, or if my eyes were looking back at her the way she looked at me.

"Is this okay?" Santana murmured softly, lifting her hand to brush the hair out of my face.

"Of course," I nodded. I felt like I was floating. I think it was because of the lights that hung against the tent and the softness of Santana's bed. Or maybe it was the way she was looking at me. Yes, definitely the way she was looking at me. I felt like her gaze was keeping me from falling.

"Santana..." I muttered, sitting up a little as I cupped her cheek with my hand, pulling her down into me. I closed my eyes as I kissed her, exhaling softly through my nose. I pushed away any scary thoughts I had before, because we were safe in our make believe castle. I felt warmth spread over me and I realized it was because Santana was flush up against me, running her hands down my arms and intertwining her fingers in my hands before spreading them out and up against the folds of her comforter.

"We can stop any time," Santana mumbled against my lips.

"Don't," I said, leaning up a little and ensuring our lips didn't part again.

Santana and I laid there like that, just kissing slowly, for a while. Eventually, I realized we were rocking together in a slow, steady rhythm. I squeezed my hands in hers as I drew away from her mouth to kiss at her jaw. She tilted her head a little to give me more access to her neck. I sucked on the skin there for a moment and then bit down softly. She let out a little moan and I continued to trail little nibbles and kisses down her neck.

Santana shifted, pressing her leg between mine as she rose a little from me. I looked up at her. She was letting out soft pants as she gazed back at me. She slipped her hand out of mine and cupped my cheek as she rested our foreheads together. My eyes widened a little at how closely she was looking at me, but I smiled and pressed my lips to hers again. Her hand slipped away from my face and slid down, over my stomach and tickling down my thigh.

"Santana," I murmured. She repositioned my leg so that she could press herself further into me and I moaned against her lips. My hips moved to rock into her as she parted her lips from mine to catch her breath. I stared up at her in wonder. The way the lights were hitting her skin and reflected in her eyes was stunning. As she rose and fell against me, it was like they were dancing across her face and I'm sure the rest of her body. This wasn't pretend or make believe, and Santana wasn't some prince or knight that was there to rescue me or sweep me off my feet. It was real, but it felt like all those other things. I felt my heart thump in my chest, pounding against hers because she was pressed so close to me.

It was like time stopped. This was a dream. It had to be a dream. I was going to wake up from this wonderful, magical place and find myself at my old apartment. My horrible, small apartment over in SoHo, never knowing Santana or these fantastic, terrifying and confusing feelings that were welling up inside my chest. I clenched my eyes closed. Maybe I could hold it together in my mind and it wouldn't fade away like trying to cup water in your hands like all my other dreams did. I needed this dream to be real, or else only my nightmare would remain.

"Brittany," Santana whispered. "Baby, look at me."

I opened my eyes at the sound of her voice and found her warm, soothing gaze again. Her brow was knit in concern, but she held a calm and gentle smile. I wrapped my arm around her neck, clinging onto her tightly. She had stopped rocking against me and held there as I leaned up and pressed my lips to hers. I slipped my other hand out from hers and held both hands to her face, craning forward to keep our foreheads touching. I shook my head, closing my eyes again.

"Please... be real," I murmured softly, as quietly as I could. Santana shifted, pulling me up a little off the bed and wrapping her arms beneath me.

"Britt," Santana said softly. "I'm here, okay? Don't be scared."

I shook my head and smiled weakly.

"I'm not, I'm just," I whispered, reconnecting our lips quickly. "I...just don't go anywhere, okay?"

"Never," Santana said. "I'll be the last thing you see when you close your eyes and the first thing when you wake up. Babe, look."

She pulled me to my side, and cupped my cheek again. I nuzzled her palm and slowly opened my eyes. She snuggled closer to me and pressed her lips on my forehead.

"I'm not letting you go," Santana murmured. "Not after I finally found you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I didn't mean to wait so long to work on this, but I have studio art classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, so I usually don't write on those days. Tuesday was weird because I had this work thing to go to meet my co-workers for next year, so I didn't do any writing until Wednesday afternoon... and I got stuck with my outline. Once I talked to my beta, I managed to rough out the next like 5 chapters, so things are good again. But my finals are coming up, so I apologize that there will be longer breaks between chapters. Not by much, I hope, because this is the only thing keeping me sane, but I do have to make sure I get all my projects done in time for the end of the semester.**

**There are a lot of songs in this chapter.**

**Between Sheets by Imogen Heap (finally got to use one by her) - ****.com/watch?v=E9QLpU1zgeY**

**I won't say I'm in Love - ****.com/watch?v=Yl6Yyl7iZhs**

**Perfect Two by Auburn - .com/watch?v=GXxbC0B_74sb**

**Sunburn by Owl City - .com/watch?v=0ZC8uKzmh6c**

**This is my life by Edward Maya - ****.com/watch?v=n_TfedOGFJU**

**In the meantime, munkeyyy drew another wonderful picture -**

**tinyurl . com / ITYTDCH28Munkeyyysketch**


	29. The Great Marshmallow War of Apt 313

My whole body felt hot. Not gross hot or uncomfortable hot, just really warm. When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the soft, caramel color of Santana's skin. I closed my eyes again, because it was too pretty to look at immediately. The lights were still on and even though she was barely moving with my cheek pressed to her bare chest as it heaved gently up and down with her breathing, the way my bleary tired eyes saw the reflections made it too dazzling to look at. I inhaled softly through my nose and adjusted the way I was placed against her so that my ear was pressed a little more down. The _thump thump thump_ of her heart was calm and steady and beautiful.

After a while of listening to her heart, I opened my eyes again. I had to blink a few times to let them adjust. Her skin looked even more amazing than my head remembered. Carefully, I lifted my hand from where it rested on her stomach. I ghosted my fingers up over her body as I moved my hand up, trying not to touch her but touch her at the same time. When I brought them up to my line of sight, I finally let the pads of my fingers touch down on her skin, just under her collar bone where a faded glimmer of light danced as she breathed. The light stayed on my fingers as I covered her skin, so I removed them to let the light strike her again. I did that a few times before I decided to let my fingers trail slowly down the inside of her breast. Her skin was so soft under my touch. It made me wonder if it was just as soft to kiss or if there was a difference in how it felt.

I peeled my face away from her chest, leaning forward and pressing my lips down where the light had been before my body blocked it out. I held there, comparing the softness of my lips to her skin to the feel of it against my fingertips. I think my lips were definitely more sensitive, because they prickled a little until I dragged them away. I inched up enough so that I could get a better view of her sleeping form. Her hand slipped away from my arm as I rose and her head was tilted towards me. I smiled softly and moved the hair out of her face, pushing her long bangs to the side along with the rest of her splayed out hair on the pillow she was resting on.

Tranquility. That's what Santana looked like. I always had trouble with that. Being calm and serene and graceful. Only when I was dancing did I think I could ever come close. But there Santana laid, not even trying and looked magnificent and alluring and peaceful all at the same time. I felt humbled in her presence. I was so lucky to wake up to her.

"Britt-Britt...?" Santana's brow furrowed, cracking her calm expression as she sniffed and turned her head off the pillow. Her cheek collided gently with my hand and she murmured softly as she blinked several times. Her hand smacked at the covers beneath her until she moved it far enough up to prop herself upright. When she did, I had leaned forward, making sure the first thing she did after waking was to be kissed. Because she deserved kisses every minute of every day, but especially when she first woke up. In case she forgot how wonderful she was while being asleep.

"Mm," Santana hummed happily. Her other hand slipped away from where it had been wrapped beneath me and she tickled it up my side. She let out another hum, but it was different and she laughed a little as she pulled away from me. Her hand drew back, too, and she waggled it in the air.

"Oh, wow, my arm is all numb," Santana said softly. I caught her hand and brought it to my lips, kissing over her fingers and turning it over to kiss her palm and wrist. I moved slowly and delicately. Even kissing her hands made my lips tingle, but I pretended it was because I was pulling the numbness away from her. She giggled and pulled her hand away from my lips, moving in to catch them in hers. She sat up more and suddenly her hands were on my cheeks, pulling me into her. I felt her nose wrinkle against mine and she pulled away while still cupping my face.

"Morning, beautiful," she whispered, looking at me from half closed eyelids. I let out a soft sigh and felt myself weaken. I was really glad she was holding her hands to my cheeks, because I don't know if I would have been able to stay upright otherwise.

"You stole the words from my lips," I murmured.

"You want them back?" Santana asked, smiling and then kissed me again. It was light and quick, followed by another and another. I started laughing because her hands fell away to start tickling my naked stomach. I squirmed and fell backwards and she loomed over me, smiling brightly. Brighter than the lights that hung behind her head, with all her teeth showing and her delicious lips spread across them. I was grinning back, but I probably looked like a fool, while she looked like a goddess.

"I had a dream about you," Santana said softly, lifting one hand to fix my hair. I wrinkled my nose and lifted my hand to mess it up again. She pretended to gasp and fixed it once more. I caught her hand and nuzzled my face against it.

"What about?" I murmured.

"It's silly," Santana said, leaning down and kissing my cheek.

"So?" I smiled. "Tell me. Please. I'll pretend to like it anyway."

"Pretend?" Santana pouted. My smile spread into a grin. She rolled her eyes and nestled down on top of me, keeping her arms at my sides so she could prop herself up and look down at my face.

"Well, you were in a castle," she murmured. I lifted my hand up off the mattress and rose it into the air, following it with my gaze as I looked around our fort.

"Mm," she nodded and kissed me. It surprised me because I hadn't been looking directly at her. I think she did it to keep me focused on her.

"And there was a big, giant, purple dragon," Santana said, moving her hand to tickle and tiptoe her index and middle finger up my arm. "He could breathe fire, but he was fluffy and soft and a little fat."

"Did he have a horn?" I asked.

"He did," Santana nodded.

"What were you doing?"

"Definitely not banging the princess," Santana said, wiggling her eyebrows in a way that suggested that was exactly what she had been doing. We both burst into a small fit of laughter. When I caught my breath, I tried my best to frown at her.

"Wait, _I_ was the princess, right?"

* * *

><p>I sat in the office of the dance studio. Mike had come in after my class to work on a dance routine with one of his students, and I decided it would be better to wait in the office instead of watching someone I didn't know practice dancing with Mike. That would be weird. I guess not so weird, since I stayed behind that first class Santana danced in to watch her.<p>

I smiled at the thought of Santana. How her movements in that class had been unsteady and unsure. How much that had changed when I helped her with Mike's choreography, and how she was graceful in everything else she did. I was always thinking about her. I guess maybe I frowned during the breaks I took from her. I pondered that for a moment, wondering if I had actually been frowning a moment ago. My phone buzzed, pulling me out of my confusing thoughts. I glanced down at the screen and my smile grew again as I saw the text.

_Are you at work still, bb? I'm getting off work now. - Santana_

I quickly clicked the buttons on my phone to send her a message back. It took longer to reply to Santana than she did me, because I had a crappy flip-phone that only had a number pad instead of a touch screen keyboard like Santana's iPhone. A lot of the buttons were worn and the screen had lots of scratches on it. In fact, the only thing I liked about my phone was that Santana was on my wallpaper. Even if it was small and I could barely see the picture.

_I am, I gotta talk to Mike, so I'll see you at home, k? ;) _

Mike swung around the door frame as I finished typing the text and hit send. I looked up at him and snapped my phone shut.

"What are you still doing here?" Mike grinned. "I thought you'd be racing out the door to run home to Santana." He looked up at the clock on the back wall of the office and I followed his gaze. Why was it whenever I was with him and he checked the time, it was always on an analog clock that I couldn't read?

"She gets off work soon, doesn't she?"

"How did you know?" I said, setting my phone on the desk in front of me.

"She and Tina are working the same shifts to make up for our trip," Mike said, sliding into the chair opposite me. My phone buzzed and I held up my hand apologetically.

_Tell Mike he's cutting into girlfriend time and I do not approve. - Santana_

I laughed, a little louder than I had intended to. I set my phone down and shook my head as I looked back up at him.

"Santana said you're cutting into girlfriend time and she doesn't approve," I laughed. "But I wanted to talk to you."

"You said that," Mike nodded. "What's up?"

I looked down at my lap and rotated my phone carefully with my fingertips. I had woken up so happy and warm this morning in Santana's arms, so I knew Santana wasn't mad or upset with me. Or at least I hoped she wasn't. Anyway... last night had been, well, scary. And Mike said new relationships were fun and exciting, but also scary, so I figured I could talk to him about it. I didn't know how to talk to Santana about it.

"What is it, Brittany?" Mike sat forward in his seat as he spoke.

"Have you ever frozen up during sex before?" I blurted out. My eyes widened after I said it, and my hands shot up a little, as if trying to physically catch the words and stuff them back into my mouth.

"Ah-" Mike hesitated with his hands gripping each arm rest at his sides tightly. He was still leaning a bit forward. He slowly sat back and lifted a hand to scratch the tip of his nose.

"Brittany, I don't think this is a conversation you should have with me," Mike said quietly. "I mean, like I said yesterday... It's a little weird-"

"But you said I could talk to you about things that were bothering me," I said quickly. My voice was a pitch higher than normal, and I realized I was whining. I didn't mean to whine. I just didn't know what to do. I always thought I was good at sex. I liked it, a lot, and I always felt comfortable with myself when I did things. But with Santana, everything was different.

"Yeah, I did, but..." Mike started, but then paused to look at me. After a long pause, I looked up at him and shrugged my shoulders weakly. I didn't want to make Mike uncomfortable.

"Yeah, okay," Mike sighed, nodding his head as he averted his gaze. "What do you mean by freezing up? Like, you don't know what to do...? Or...? Because if this is about how two girls... Brittany, you can look that up on the internet-"

"No, no," I let out a weak laugh. My lips spread into a half grin as I shook my head. "I know enough. I think. About how to make Santana feel good and stuff. It's not that. I mean, I'm sure there's other things we could do than just-"

"Brittany, I want to help you, but would you mind leaving out as much detail about the actual sex as possible? I don't want to think about Santana like that. Or, you know, you for that matter. You're my friends."

"But she's so hot," I chirped.

"Yes, sure. She is," Mike nodded. "But she's _your_ girlfriend." He shook his head again and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"She is," I grinned to myself, leaning back in my chair. I had a sexy, hot, amazing girlfriend.

"So it's not about, um," Mike coughed. "Mechanics, so to speak?"

"No, not really," I shrugged. "Although, I think she's still scared about oral sex. I mean, I went down-"

"Brittany," Mike said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. "C-can you cut to the chase?"

"Last night, well," I sat forward and placed my phone on the table. "Santana and I were... being intimate," I said, picking my words carefully because of the look Mike gave me. It made it easier for me to talk, I think. Because I could just convince myself he was more uncomfortable than I was.

"And it's happened once or twice where I just kind of get so... so overwhelmed," I said, raising my hands up. I think that was it. It sounded like a smart word. "This is so hard to explain."

"Just keep going," Mike nodded, letting his arms slip away from his chest. He gave me an encouraging smile and I nodded.

"It's just all these... ugh, all this mess of emotions just bubble up," I said, wiggling my fingers at my chest.

"My chest feels tight and my heart starts to race and I feel like... like that feeling when you go down a waterslide and you get splashed with all this cold water when you finally plunge into the pool. Only a hundred times worse and it's not cold, but just as shocking. You get tingly all over like needles are jabbing into your skin, and you have to close your eyes tight to keep the room from spinning and- Ugh...! Mike."

I slapped my hand down on the armrest of the chair I was sitting in and let out an exasperated sigh. I felt tears welling up in my eyes, and I didn't know why. It was just that. Overwhelming. But as much as it was scary and terrifying and confusing, it felt good and exciting and like nothing I'd ever experienced. I lifted my other hand to quickly wipe at my eye, pretending to rub my eye like I was tired, but I'm sure he noticed anyway.

"I've just never... felt like this before," I mumbled, lifting my hand from the armrest to press my lips against my knuckles. I could feel my cheeks grow warm and I knew I was probably turning red. I only hoped that what little tan I did get from the beach was helping hide the fact that I felt about as dark as a tomato.

"Brittany, it's okay to feel that way," Mike said. He scooted closer to me. "It's all new. Everything with you and Santana. This is your first relationship, right...?"

I nodded slowly, but kept my eyes averted so I didn't have to look directly at him. I felt so embarrassed.

"When you, uh, froze up, what happened?" Mike asked. "Did you talk to Santana about it?"

"I... No," I shook my head. "She just kind of knew, though..." I closed my eyes and sighed. "She knew exactly the right things to do and say."

"Yeah?" Mike said. I glanced up at him and saw him raise his eyebrows a little. "I knew Santana had a way with words, but I'm glad you bring out a soft side to her."

He smirked and let out a little chuckle. I laughed too, but I didn't know why. I only knew this 'new' Santana that everyone else seemed to be surprised by.

"Do you ever feel like that?" I asked quietly. "When you're with Tina?"

"It's hard to relate how one person feels about another," Mike said. "Tina and I have been together for a long time. I love her. Very much. I don't know exactly you're going through, and I don't want to be premature in telling you how to feel, but you're not doing anything wrong."

Mike stood up and stepped towards me.

"I think it'd be more of a problem if you didn't feel anything at all, Brittany," Mike said, opening his arms up a little. I stood up and gave him a hug. It was tighter and more serious than I intended it to be, but he hugged me back and let me rest there for a while.

"What should I do if I freeze up again?" I mumbled. I think I was a little muffled, because I had my face buried in his shirt.

"I think you should talk to Santana," Mike said softly. "Even if it's just to tell her you're trying to figure things out."

"That's good," I nodded, peeling away from him a little. "Yeah. But... do you think she's mad we didn't finish?"

"Er," Mike smiled weakly. "I doubt she would be mad at you."

"Okay," I nodded. Mike rubbed my arms up and down a little and then patted my head.

"All good?" he asked.

"...yeah," I nodded. "I think so. Unless..."

I paused for a second and smirked deviously.

"Seriously, what are other things two girls could do other than-"

"We're done talking," Mike said, tossing his hands in the air as he stepped away from me. I laughed and followed him out of the office.

"-come on, isn't this stuff what guys talk about?" I laughed. "You can't not know-"

I stopped short as I stumbled out into the hallway and directly into Santana. She looked flustered at my sudden appearance and nearly dropped her keys.

"Santana!" I cheered happily and immediately wrapped my arms around her. She tensed for a split second before letting her arms tighten around me. When she did, I picked her up off the ground a little and spun in a circle. She let out a laugh and I felt her fingers dig into my skin.

"W-what stuff do guys talk about?" Santana giggled as I put her back on the ground.

"Nothing, I was just asking Mike about sex advice," I shrugged. Santana's smile dropped and her cheeks got bright red.

"I didn't say anything," Mike said, raising his hands in the air and taking a cautious step backwards. "I swear."

"Oh god," Santana shook her head and rose both her hands to cover her face. "Brittany, you just... you _can't_ do that."

"Why not?" I said, furrowing my brow. "Mike said I could talk to him about anything."

"Yes, Brittany, but," Santana shook her head and grabbed my hands, pulling me closer. "What we do at home or... anywhere else, for that matter... it's _private._"

Her voice was small. She looked so embarrassed. I hadn't meant to embarrass her. Maybe Mike, a little. But I didn't know what the problem was talking about sex. Mike and Tina knew we had sex, _obviously_.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. She smiled weakly at me and gave Mike a sheepish, apologetic shrug.

"I've gotta um, work on some paperwork," Mike said, stepping around us and back towards the office. Santana pulled me even closer.

"Don't be sorry," Santana said. "Just, if you want to talk about _that_ you should talk to me first, okay?"

"That's fair," I nodded. "I promise."

"Good," Santana said and kissed my forehead. I felt forgiven, and gripped her hands tightly. I pulled her towards me as I took a step backward.

"What are you doing here?" I smiled as I walked along the hallway to the mirrored dance room.

"I thought I would pick you up, since you were still here," Santana said quietly, shyly looking up at me. "And I figured you still hadn't left since you didn't reply to my text."

"I didn't want to be rude," I laughed. I'd pulled her onto the dance floor and took a bigger step back as I moved to twirl her around. She giggled and spun, letting me pull her in tightly once she was facing me again. She had both hands against my stomach and leaned forward to press her lips to mine in a soft, delicate kiss.

"Would you like to dance?" I asked politely.

"Of course," she nodded and I slipped my hand back in hers, letting the other slide from her back to her hip. She dipped her free hand away from my stomach and let it rest gently on my arm.

"There's no music," she whispered, leaning close to me.

"Luckily, we have you," I said, pressing my lips to her forehead. She blushed and dipped her head down. She wasn't staring at her feet or anything, because she was actually really good at following my movements. It didn't feel like I was dancing with someone that didn't know the steps. She just swayed along and followed, avoiding my gaze because she was embarrassed.

"What should I sing?" Santana murmured.

"You pick something," I said with a small sigh and squeezed her hand. "I'm in charge of choreography."

Santana looked up slyly with me and her lips cracked into a smile. "_Ass ass ass ass..._" she whispered, and I let out one giant laugh. I shook my head and squeezed her hand again, pulling her tighter so that she rested her head against me and that I could nestle my cheek on the top of her head.

"Not that," I said softly. "Something sweet."

"I guess your ass is more hot than sweet," Santana murmured. I felt her lips against my neck move and I guessed she was smiling. Maybe. She suddenly tensed in my arms and I felt her throat move against mine like she was gulping.

"...I..." Santana murmured something so soft, I couldn't hear it, even with her so close to my ear. I bent my head down a little to see if I could hear her better.

"...climbed a mountain and I turned around..." she whispered. "And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills... where the landslide brought me down."

I turned slowly and looked up at the mirror across from me. I saw Santana looking out to the side of the dance room, where the large windows were that overlooked the street below. Her brow was a little furrowed and she took in a small breath. I didn't know this song, but she sounded pretty. Her voice was so small and it looked to me like it was really hard for her to remember the words or something. I forgot lyrics sometimes, but I didn't mind if she messed up. I wouldn't know if she did or not.

"Oh...mirror in the sky, what is love?" she sang softly. I inhaled sharply and my grip on her hand tightened. It was just a song. I closed my eyes, praying my heart wouldn't threaten to speed up. She moved a little, pressing a light kiss on my shoulder and I felt myself relax.

"Can the child within my heart rise above?" she continued to whisper, stepping towards me. I realized I had stopped dancing for a split second, and her advance made me move again. "Can I sail through the changing ocean tide? Can I handle the seasons of my life?"

"Uh-ohhh," she hummed, nuzzling her face into the crook of my neck. She repeated the hum a few times softly. Her heart was beating against mine a little hard, too. I think she was nervous, maybe more nervous than me, all of a sudden.

"Well, I've been 'fraid of changing, 'cause I've built m-my life around you," she sang softly. Her voice cracked a little and she buried her face deeper in my neck for messing up. I smiled and swayed her back and forth with a little more force, not much, and let out a small sigh as I rubbed my cheek against the top of her head.

"Keep going," I urged. I liked it. Maybe she thought she couldn't keep going, but I wanted her to. To me, it sounded perfect.

"...But time makes... you bolder. Children get older... and I'm getting older, too," she mumbled. "Well..."

She peeled her face away from my neck and readjusted herself against me, slipping her hand away from where it rested on my arm to wrap around my back. Her hand squeezed in mine and I brought it down, a little closer to us.

"Well, I've been afraid of changing," she sang. "'Cause I've-"

"'Cause I've built my life around you," I sang along with her. I saw her smile weakly in the mirror.

"But time makes you bolder, and children get older. And I'm getting older, too," Santana sang, just a little bit louder. "Well, I'm getting older...too."

"So... take this love and take it down," Santana continued, her voice falling again into a soft whisper. "Yeah... if you climb a mountain and you... turn around."

"And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills," she murmured. "Where the landslide brought me down...And if you..."

"See my reflection in the...?" I started, because she paused. I forgot the verse.

"The snow," she nodded.

"Snow covered hills," I sang with her.

"Well, maybe," she sang softly. "Well, maybe... Well, maybe..."

I stopped guiding her along. I couldn't see her face anymore in the mirror, because she had hid it in the crook of my neck again. I wasn't sure, but she let out a small sniff, so maybe she was crying. I didn't know why. The song was so sweet and pretty.

"The landslide will bring you...down," Santana mumbled. I pulled back a little but her grip on me tightened. I let her rest her head against me for a while as I let my hand slip out of hers to run my hand along her back. She pulled back from me a little and smiled, shaking her head lightly and pulled a hand away from my back to quickly wipe her face. She was blushing. I let my hand rise up to rest on her heart.

"Thank you," I whispered softly, letting my hand tickle up her neck and over her jaw. I pulled her forward and pressed my lips to her forehead. "For the dance." I lowered and kissed her nose. "For the song." I reached her lips and held there. She exhaled through her nose and wrapped her arms around my neck. It was like the first time we'd danced, the first time we kissed, except this time she brought the music.

Santana deepened our kiss, lifting her chin a little to press further into me, so I parted mine to accept hers. I gently slid my tongue over them and she smiled before letting me in. I pushed my hand to tangle in her hair, my other hand tightening around her waist and closed any distance between us. I felt my heart starting to beat a little faster. What was it Santana had said? Time makes you bolder. I didn't want to wait to be bold; I wanted to kiss her. I huffed lightly. Santana giggled and pulled back a little. I hummed a protest and pressed my lips back against hers, and she gently licked them. Maybe the tight feeling in my chest wasn't so bad. I just had to get used to it.

"-Hey, girls, I'm heading out now. Can you make sure to lah-lock...u-up..."

Santana pulled away from my lips and glanced sheepishly back at Mike. I grunted and lowered my lips to Santana's jaw.

"Y-yeah," Santana stammered. I looked up in the mirror to see she was grinning and her cheeks were red. I could also see the flabbergasted look on Mike's face as he turned away. I looked back down and started to kiss Santana's neck.

"R-right," Mike said. I heard him shuffle and Santana smacked me gently on the arm. I ignored that, too, and kept sucking on her neck.

"B-Brittany," Santana giggled as I nibbled. She hugged me tightly and I pressed a few kisses back up her neck until I was level with her cheek and nuzzled my nose against her.

"I don't care," I said in a hoarse whisper. "I'm going to kiss my girlfriend when she sings to me. No one is going to stop me."

"Yeah?" Santana said, smiling as she pressed her forehead to mine.

"Yeah."

* * *

><p>"S-santana," I giggled as I stumbled through the doorway to our apartment. She had her fingers crawling under my shirt and it tickled more than I expected it to. She kicked the door closed behind us as she moved me towards the couch.<p>

"W-wait," I stammered, gripping her arms tightly and hanging off her as she tried to press me down. She loomed over me, raising a brow as she slowly slid her tongue back in her mouth.

"I need to take a shower."

"You're really going to stop me after you made out with me for, like, ever back at the dance studio? And then insisted we dance to Sexy Chick and all those other songs on your iPod?"

"Yeah, but now I'm gross and sweaty," I murmured. "I danced before you got there, too."

"I don't give a fuck," Santana said, lowering to my neck again. I hugged her tightly, making it difficult for her to press her lips to my skin.

"Damn it, Brittany," she growled as she started to falter from the weight I put on her by clinging so close.

"I'll be quick, I promise," I said, quickly pecking her on the cheek as I untangled myself from her and ducked out from below her arms. She tried to catch my hand, but I pulled it away and jumped up a few steps of the stairwell. She was looking up at me with a pout, so I blew her a kiss before dashing up the rest of the stairs.

The moment I was upstairs, I made my way into my room. It looked strange with the bed frame missing the mattress, but I turned away to grab some clothes out of my closet. Initially I just grabbed the first thing my hands reached, but then I paused when I realized it was my giraffe shirt. Giraffes weren't sexy. I tossed it aside spread my clothes apart. I don't know why it mattered what I wore after my shower, because I knew Santana was just going to take it off. Maybe underwear was more important.

I nearly tripped over Lord Tubbington as I moved to my dresser, rummaging quickly through the drawer. Lord Tubbington continued to lay lazily in the middle of the floor as I picked out my bra and underwear. I glanced back at him.

"What do you think?" I asked, sheepishly holding up my bra. His tail flicked and he blinked at me. That was about all the response I ever got out of him, so I scrunched up my undergarments with the rest of the clothes balled up in my hands and hurried back into the bathroom.

I tossed my clothes in a pile behind the door and turned the water on before pulling off my clothes. I glanced in the mirror at myself and smiled when I saw the red marks on my neck. They weren't all that dark - I think Santana was trying to be more gentle with her kisses, but it was still hard to hide the evidence. I flicked my eyes up at the ceiling for a second as I stepped towards the shower. At first, I wasn't completely sold on the idea of telling Quinn and Rachel, but after talking with Mike today, I was kind of glad we wouldn't have to sneak around any more. It wasn't that sneaking around didn't have its own appeal. In some ways it was exciting. But at the end of the day, I just wanted Santana. All the wonderful things Santana offered. To hold and cuddle in our fort and to kiss and to...

"Ugh, stop it," I said out loud, smacking my hand against my chest. The water made it more audible than I thought it would be, and my eyes snapped open. I just wanted my heart to stop freaking out. It was alright. Santana was my girlfriend. My _girlfriend. _It was perfectly fine for me to feel that way about her. I dove my head into the water and exhaled, spluttering a little water from my lips. I felt a shudder run down my spine; I swear something soft ghosted along my shoulder. I clenched my eyes closed to rub my hands over my face.

"Stop what?" Santana's voice came from behind me. I jumped, but her arms closed in around me and held me steady. "I haven't even done anything yet."

"S-santana," I gasped, but she pulled me back, pressing her naked body up against mine. I didn't think it was possible to get hotter than I was under all the water, but she made my whole body feel like it was blushing.

"I figured since you were taking a shower," Santana said, lowering her lips to my neck, sucking on it a second before pulling away with a soft smacking sound. "That I'd take advantage of not having to bother with your clothes."

My chest tightened as I took in a breath. Her hands slid up against the wet skin of my stomach, rising up to grasp each of my bare breasts. I sucked on my bottom lip as her fingers squeezed and I felt her run her tongue along my shoulder to the base of my neck. When she found her favorite spot on my neck, she drew her tongue back into her mouth and started to suck the skin there. I knew it was her favorite, because it made chills run up and down my spine even with all the heat. I think she knew that.

My head rolled back a little and a small moan escaped from my throat. The combination of the water and Santana's hands gently massaging my breasts and her sucking on my damp skin was intoxicating. So much so, I felt dizzy and a little lightheaded. I leaned back into her because it was too hard to stand on my own and my heart was starting to pound harder.

"San...tana..." I breathed softly. "I... need to wash off."

"Mm," she hummed, slowing her lips and I placed my palms over her hands so she would stop.

"I was helping," Santana murmured before letting out a soft laugh. Her laugh was as pretty as her singing, and it soothed my heart a little into a gentle flutter.

"You weren't," I said softly. Her hands wiggled out from beneath mine and tickled down my stomach. I let out a small laugh and she spun me around gently and carefully.

"I'll help," she promised, giving me a chaste kiss before twisting to grab her shampoo. I smiled, because her shampoo smelled good, and I'd only gotten to use it once before. And she always smelled good when she used it.

"You just wait," Santana said as she squeezed a bit of shampoo in her palm. "You'll be so squeaky clean when I'm done with you. I'll be _thorough_." She winked.

"...yeah right," I rolled my eyes to try and distract her from my blush. She rose her eyebrows and made a small popping sound with her lips.

"Come on, spin around," Santana smiled. I ducked my head directly under the shower head quickly and then twisted around so that my back was facing Santana again. She spread the shampoo in my hair, running her fingers slowly through my hair, careful, I guess, to avoid tangles. She started to make small circles and I could feel the shampoo bubble up in my hair. It felt really nice and soothing, but it also kind of tickled. Her fingers scratched at the base of my neck and back up and she went all over it again.

"I like your shampoo," I murmured. My eyes felt heavy and I wobbled a little. She slipped her hands out of my hair to catch me, leaving a soppy handprint on my shoulder for a second before the water washed it away.

"I like yours," she cooed softly. She spun me around again to help me rinse out all the bubbles.

"You can use mine if you want," I said as she lifted her hands up speed the process of de-shampooing my hair. I peeked down at her, fidgeting a little as I saw her breasts move along with the movements of her arms.

"Oh, close your eyes," Santana said softly. I thought for a second she had caught me staring at her breasts, but she lowered her hand to wipe a dribble of shampoo bubbles that was slipping down my forehead towards my eye. I closed them and she carefully ran her fingers over my face. She repeated a similar process for the conditioner, and while I waited before rinsing it out, I helped her wash her hair. She laughed a lot more than I did, but she agreed to let me use my shampoo on her.

"Do you want to use my body wash?" Santana asked as we both rinsed out our conditioner.

"Yes," I smiled. Santana reached passed me, smirking as I stared down at her lips, and grabbed my loofah off its hook. She squeezed her body wash onto the puffball and then grabbed my hand to pull me out from the direct stream of water. I stumbled a little and she gently smacked the puff ball onto my stomach. She let her hand tickle up my wrist to my shoulder and then cupped my cheek. The other hand moved to create a soapy lather up my stomach before she started to trail upward to between my breasts. I took in another sharp gasp and she smiled, stepping close and kissing me lightly.

"Why are you so embarrassed?" Santana giggled. I guess my cheeks gave me away.

"This is just... super intimate," I murmured. She got even closer.

"We've done a lot more intimate things than this," Santana said softly. "Like back at the hotel. We even took a bath, then."

"Y-yeah," I nodded. That was when I started feeling funny. I didn't want to say that, though, because that sounded bad. Santana made me feel weird. No, that sounded bad too. I didn't know what to tell her.

"I like being intimate with you," Santana said quietly. "I mean, I like sex, you know that. But Brittany, what I like most is that it's with _you_."

Her hand stilled against my chest, and her brow furrowed. Not in a way that made her look upset, but just enough that I could tell she was concerned. She managed to balance it out by smiling softly at me.

"Are you okay with that?" Santana asked. Her voice was small and she averted her gaze for a second. I snapped up a little and nodded my head quickly.

"Of course. It's not just sex. That's not why I like you," I said quickly. I leaned back a little, feeling a bit stunned. Had Santana thought I just liked her because we had good sex? I thought back to how insistent I had been to have sex with her when I was drunk. I felt hot in my face again, but this time it didn't feel good. And maybe she felt pressured into letting me go down on her that last time. And today... god, I must have sounded like a sex maniac.

"I know," Santana said softly, letting out a light chuckle. Her hand slipped away from my cheek to grab my hand and sway it gently. "If it was, you wouldn't have left me downstairs. Or last night, we would have-"

"I'm sorry," I interjected. "About yester-"

She leaned in and hushed me with a kiss.

"No apologizing," Santana said. "Last night was perfect."

"It was?" I murmured.

"Absolutely," Santana nodded. "I'm the one that's always thinking about sex. I even dream about it," she laughed. "I'm sorry if that put pressure on you."

"You didn't," I said, squeezing her hand tightly. "God, I want to have sex with you so bad. I just... sometimes I get a little flustered. It all rushes to my head."

"Okay," Santana nodded. "I felt like that a little..."

"You did?"

"When you went down..." Santana blushed, glancing to the side. "It felt good. Really good. Amazing, actually. But I felt like my heart was going to explode."

"It's terrifying," I said softly.

"No," Santana shook her head. "It's... refreshing."

"Huh?"

"To have someone that makes me feel so ...remarkable," Santana said softly. "It's... Britt, you make me feel _special_."

"So do you. For me," I said softly.

"Good," Santana inching closer to me. "Because I _want_ to make you feel special."

I gulped and she leaned forward, kissing my lips lightly. I pressed into her. No matter how unsure I was, Santana seemed to know how to calm me down. She felt overwhelmed sometimes too, but she wasn't letting it stop her, even if it was scary.

"Come on, let me finish washing you off," Santana smiled. I grinned and spun around. I nearly slipped, but she caught me. I laughed sheepishly at my own inelegance, but she wrapped her hand around my stomach as she ran the loofah up my spine. My laugh died off pretty quickly, because it was like no matter how Santana touched me, it was sensual. She slipped the loofah down and wrapped it around to my front again as she slipped her hands down.

"Sa...Santana." Her name escaped my lips without much reason other than I felt like I _had_ to say it. She chuckled and pressed against me.

"I'm not even touching you," Santana cooed in my ear.

"You are," I exhaled insistently. She dropped the loofah and her hands glided slowly up my thighs to pause at my hips.

"Not _touching_ you," Santana whispered.

"I-I w-want you to," I gulped. Santana's grip on my hips tightened a little as she twirled me around. I caught sight of her grin a split second before her lips came crashing into mine. I stepped back as she moved forward and warm water sprayed down on us as my hands lifted up to tangle in her soaking hair. She continued to advance on me, pressing me against the tiled walls of the shower. Water dripped down her face and mine in a steady stream because of the shower head, but I sucked and kissed at her lips regardless. She pressed so close to me and her breasts squashed against mine. I gasped for air in a pause between kisses, and she slid her hands up and down my legs slowly while her tongue dove into my open mouth. I didn't even protest, and offered her a moan instead.

My heart thumped against my chest, and I could feel hers racing against mine. Literally, racing. It was hard to tell whose was beating faster. That was reassuring to me as I reminded myself that this wasn't _terrifying._ Santana said it was refreshing, but maybe it was more than that. It was exhilarating. Her hands slid up along my stomach and over my ribs, dipping slowly into the small indentations between the bones and dragging up until she found my breasts. I groaned as she palmed them a little more forcibly than I was used to.

"Santana," I said again when I could, pulling her closer.

"Mm," she hummed. Any time I tried to push away from the wall, she would press her weight into me again. I think she was focused on making me feel good. Even though I wanted to do the same, the more she kissed me and dug her fingers into my chest, the less I fought back. When I lowered my hand away from her neck, she snatched it away from her breast and placed it back where it had been previously.

I felt her leg press between mine and I grinned against her kisses. She had to pull me forward a little to give us space so she could rock into me. A small, sharp cry escaped my lips and into her mouth. She tugged me closer to her and I felt more of the water splashing against us.

"Santana-"

"Britt," she moaned as I reluctantly drew my head back. She tried to keep kissing me, but I lifted my chin so she missed and started to suck on my neck.

"No, Santana," I giggled. "The water's getting cold."

"A little," she barely agreed. My hand untangled from her hair and slapped at the nob that controlled the water flow and twisted it off.

"C-can we lay down?"

"In the tub?" Santana grunted, scraping her teeth against my skin in a way that made me shudder. The air was quickly cooling my skin, too, now that the water was off.

"No, not here," I giggled.

"Bed," she stated more than she asked.

"Mm," I hummed. She hugged me tightly and stepped back, her mouth still latched to my neck. I pushed the shower curtain aside as she stumbled backwards. I forced her back a little so that I could step out, and then managed to steal a towel from the rack before she could attach herself to me again.

"Give me a second, come on, your hair is soaked," I giggled. She grimaced and stepped back as I dropped the towel over her head. Her fingers released their hold on me as she quickly rubbed the towel against her hair and then dragged it away to do the same thing to me. I giggled and laughed, and when she pulled the towel away, she wrapped it around me to give me a quick pat down.

"Good enough," Santana said, tossing the towel aside and pulling me close. Even though it was messy, her hair looked really, _really_ sexy.

"Bed?" I asked softly. She nodded, stepping backwards and pulling me out of the bathroom as she reconnected our lips. We bumbled and crashed our way down the hallway as Santana tried to navigate while making out with me. Her hands dragged down my back and squeezed my ass when I started to move in the wrong direction towards Quinn's room until finally we made it to hers. We broke apart only because we almost got tangled in the Christmas lights, but she grabbed my hand and tugged me quickly inside our fort. I fell onto my back and she crawled quickly on top of me.

"Santana," I pleaded softly when she pushed her weight on top of me, preventing me from rising again.

"I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel," Santana said hoarsely as she attacked my neck again. She ground her hips into me as her hands found my breasts again and squeezed.

"F-fuck," I stammered. Wait. As good as I made her feel? When?

Her kisses started to trail lower, to my collarbone and then over the center of my chest. She was sucking just above my belly button when I realized where she was going.

"Are y-you sure?" I gasped. Her hands moved to cup the backsides of my legs as she pushed me further up onto the bed so that I was resting my head against the pillows. She moved swiftly up to press her lips against mine, delicately running her fingers along my temple.

"Mm," she hummed, her eyes closed as she broke the kiss. "I want to."

"Okay," I panted, wiggling a little beneath her. She let out a small, nervous laugh when I spread my legs. I immediately felt sheepish for being so eager. She started to kiss down my chest again, so I was reassured she hadn't completely lost her confidence. Although, she was a little more tense now that I had interrupted her. I let my hands slide up her arms and rub gently over her shoulders as she brought her lips down on one of my nipples. I exhaled sharply. She let the fingers that were on my other breast squeeze and pinch to mimic the way she moved her mouth. Her free hand started to trail down, teasing slowly. Eventually she made her way down, all the while sucking and nibbling gently at my nipple. She ran her fingers gently over my folds, and I bucked my hips as I let out a small grunt of frustration.

"_Please_," I murmured. She giggled and nodded against my chest. Her lips trailed down between my boobs as her hand slid against my center. Her fingers slipped and glided up and down, and I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out. As she started to kiss and lick down my chest and run her tongue along the base of my ribcage, I realized we were home _alone_. I didn't have to try and contain the sounds she was forcing out of me. I could be as loud as I wanted.

My heart was pounding in hard, loud thumps against my chest. I was sure that Santana could hear it. Her kisses trailed lower as she pulled her hands away from their placement on my breast and over my slit to rest against my thighs. She hesitated when she finally came down to between my legs.

"Santana?" I wanted to say that it was okay. That she could take it slow, but that was all that gurgled out of my throat.

"Give me a second," she mumbled sheepishly. A moment later, she pressed a small kiss against me. She paused, pulled back, and then peppered a few more, equally light, kisses to my folds. I let out a small laugh.

"What?" Santana said, looking up at me. I shifted a little so I was resting higher up against the pillow and smiled.

"Am I doing... it wrong?" Santana said softly, her lips curving downward in a tiny frown.

"You're doing fine," I said. "It just tickled."

"It shouldn't _tickle_," Santana grumbled. I let my hand fall down to brush over her damp hair and slide down to cup her cheek.

"You could try using your _tongue_," I giggled quietly, scratching my fingers under her chin lightly.

"Shutup," Santana said. "I'm... working on it."

"Sorry, sorry," I smiled. She wrinkled her nose at me and adjusted how she was laying between my legs, hesitating again once she was settled.

"You don't have to be so shy, Santan-ah!"

She took a sudden dive forward and ran her tongue flatly over my folds. I felt my back arch in surprise. Her brow furrowed and her eyes were clenched closed as she held for a moment, drawing her tongue slowly back in her mouth. She took a deep breath through her nose and squeezed her hands on my thighs as she dipped down again. Her wet tongue glided back slowly against me, sinking between my folds as she explored. I let out another gasp when she found the bundle of sensitive nerves as her tongue ran up, and she drew her tongue back again. Her lips closed around me, swallowing up all the sensitive parts and her tongue poked back at my entrance. My hand that had been on her cheek had tangled itself into her hair as I opened my mouth to let out a loud moan.

"_Fuck,_" I groaned. Her lips made soft wet sounds as she continued to move her tongue. I think she smirked, maybe. I knew she drew back after I gasped again to let out a smug laugh. I tangled my other hand into her hair and tugged her forward lightly. I didn't want her to stop, but I didn't want to seem too forceful. She giggled and pressing her mouth to me, making wet noises as she lapped her tongue slowly.

My heart was racing and I felt like I had to dig my fingers into her hair just to have something to hold onto. My chest heaved up and down as I let out soft gasps. The gasps got louder and more breathy as she moved up a little, giving all her attention to my clit. I practically shouted when she started humming.

"Sa-ahh!" I couldn't even say her name properly. I didn't know her doing that would have such a breathtaking effect on me. God, if I didn't already appreciate her voice, I definitely did now. I couldn't even figure out if she was humming a tune or just a note by the time small whimpers were escaping my throat. Her grip on my legs tightened and she pressed down to keep me still. I felt that falling sensation again, and I clung to her hair as I tried to gasp for air. I think I tried to shout, but no sound came out of my mouth. Instead, I felt like a current was running through me, coursing all over my body. She stopped humming and stopped moving all together, just kept her lips where they were and held me still. I could feel my legs try to writhe beneath her grasp, but she was surprisingly strong in her hold on me.

Suddenly, my throat stopped failing me, and I swallowed a huge gulp of air. My pants were audible and she lightly kissed down on me, causing my gasps to turn into small whimpers. I couldn't handle her touching me any more. She rose a little, putting her weight on my legs and licked her lips. I stared down at her in amazement, peeling my hands away from her hair, watching as she crawled back on top of me. She smiled softly, looking down at me as I caught my breath. Her hand lifted and brushed my hair back, running gently back over my face to wipe away the sweat that had formed on my brow.

I understood why she had been at a loss for words when I had gone down on her. Why all she could say was that she wanted me to kiss her. I tried to ask her to. To just kiss me, but I still couldn't really form words. She seemed to understand, though, because she pressed a kiss to my forehead. Another on my eyebrow, then my eyelid, to my cheek, over the corner of my mouth and then finally came to a rest at my lips. She held there the longest and I wrapped my arms around her back and pulled her to lay down on me. She was warm and comforting, and just having her there on top of me made me feel like the raging storm inside of me was finally calming. My heart wasn't trying to force its way out of my chest, and instead, was rhythmically beating against hers. I would have liked to say they were in sync, but the soft off beat tempo they created felt perfect to me.

"Santana," I whispered softly, but she quieted me with her lips again. It was a soft, gentle kiss, and I understood what she meant. She knew how I was feeling, and there didn't need to be words. Just kisses. She moved her lips slowly. The tingling feeling returned, but instead of making my body react like a I was being struck by lightning, it was soothing and made me feel sleepy. Santana's lips were amazing like that. I still felt like I was falling. Maybe not falling. Flying. That was more like it. Or dreaming. She kept kissing me like that until I didn't know when. I think I fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Santana was humming softly as I snuggled into her from behind. I had my arms wrapped around her, pressing into the silky soft fabric of her robe. She was making me pancakes.<p>

"I'm starving," I murmured.

"You said that already," Santana laughed. I had said that, this morning, with my head resting on Santana's naked stomach. We didn't have work today, and I took full advantage of that fact.

"I like this," I said, kissing her neck softly.

"What? The post-sex breakfast? Or me making you chocolate chip pancakes?" Santana said, twisting a little to nuzzle her nose to mine as she tugged gently on the sleeve of my bathrobe.

"Both," I said, pressing my lips to hers. "But just. This."

I squeezed her tighter and rested my head against hers, looking down at the pancake in the pan. This, as in everything. The moment, the kisses, the feelings. The warmth that was created not by standing in front of the stove, but what was generated from her body against mine. This, as in us. Being able to hug and hold and touch each other without worry or care. Just. This.

"I don't want break to be over," I sighed.

"Me either," Santana said quietly, lifting the pancake from the pan and placing it on the stack on the plate next to it. I reached forward and turned off the stove and she grabbed the plate as she twisted around.

"Ugh," she groaned as she slipped out of my grasp, setting the plate down on the kitchen island. "We have so much to do today."

"No," I shook my head, stepping towards her again and hugging her. "We don't have work or anything."

"But Rachel and Quinn come back today," Santana sighed. "The apartment is a mess and that was the last of the milk. We've gotta clean and vacuum and do the dishes and go grocery shopping... get more litter for your cat."

I glanced around the kitchen and then over to the living room. Maybe we did need to vacuum and pick up the blankets we had left on the couch from yesterday's sexcapade, but aside from the bowl we made the pancake mix in and the pan that was sitting on the stove, we didn't have a whole lot to do. And sure, we needed to buy milk and a few other things, but it wasn't going to take all day.

"Baby," I cooed softly, tickling my fingers against her stomach. "Are you nervous?"

"N-no," Santana said. She turned in my arms, resting her butt against the counter as she held her hands up over my shoulders, resting her wrists against them. "Are you?"

"I'm excited," I smiled. "And yeah, a little nervous. But you'll be there, so it'll be okay."

"I'm a little scared," Santana admitted. "But you're right, it'll be okay. We're in this together, and we'll tell them together."

"If they try to keep us force us to sleep in separate rooms, I'm tossing my mattress out from the fire escape."

"They won't," Santana laughed. "I'll take Quinn's camera and hold it hostage. Or Rachel's microphone."

"Genius," I grinned. As Santana scooted me to my swivel chair and sat me down, I grabbed a pancake and ate it with my hands. She laughed and leaned in to take a bite. She got chocolate on her lips, so I moved in to lick it clean before she could. She blushed and moved to sit down next to me. While we ate, we talked about Quinn and Rachel and how best to approach telling them. Santana said we could go to the store and make a big meal and tell them over dinner.

"There won't ever be a perfect way or time to tell them," I nodded. "But at least we'll be in control or how it happens."

"Exactly," Santana nodded, waggling a pancake at me. I chomped at it, nearly catching her finger and wiggled my face back and forth until I tore a chunk of it away. She laughed and leaned forward and kissed me.

* * *

><p>"Please?" I asked. We were at Walmart, because we ended up needing to get a new vacuum in addition to the groceries. Lord Tubbington had chewed up the cord while we were gone. Santana agreed to let me wander down all the aisles because I liked to do that when I went shopping, even if I wasn't going to buy anything.<p>

"Why would we ever need those?" Santana asked, raising a brow at me.

"Come on, it'll be fun," I said, grabbing three more of the plastic devices from the shelf and tossing them in the cart. "Quinn and Rachel will get a kick out of it, too."

"Quinn and Rachel aren't fun enough to do that, Britt," Santana shook her head, but she didn't reach into the cart and put them back.

"Well, we can make it a game," I said, twirling around and dancing down the aisle. "You and me versus Quinn and Rachel. We'll see how long the other can last."

"I don't even know how we would keep score," Santana said, lifting the plastic toy out of the cart as she pushed it towards me.

"We don't have to, it'll just be fun," I grinned.

"Whatever," Santana rolled her eyes. "If you can get them to agree to it, I'm game."

"Awesome," I cheered and pulled on the cart to make her go faster. "Let's go get the ammo!"

"You do realize it isn't vegan, right?"

"Oh, I forgot about Rachel's diet." I stopped short in my tracks.

"We'll stop by Trader Joe's," Santana shrugged. "Maybe they make vegan friendly marshmallows."

* * *

><p>"See? We had plenty of time," I smiled, leaning in to Santana once she plopped down on the couch next to me. She rolled her eyes just before letting me kiss her softly. She had made some sort of chicken casserole that was baking in the oven and even made some pasta for Rachel. All the while, I spent my time taste-testing what she was making and giving her kissing breaks every few minutes. I thought it was <em>very <em>helpful.

"You are such a distraction," Santana giggled, kissing me back as I grabbed her cheeks. I kept pressing kisses to her lips and then started to smooch all over her face. She grinned and fell back, and I started to tickle her stomach.

"Stop, stop, they're gonna be home any minute," Santana laughed. I kept tickling her.

"Let them," I said boldly.

"G-get off," Santana laughed, rolling off the couch and onto the floor. I scrambled off the couch to keep running my fingers all over her. I somehow ended up straddling her, pinning her arms above her head and dipped down to press down on her lips. I pulled back a little, but still close enough to gaze into her eyes.

"Are you ready to tell them?"

Santana inhaled and I could tell she was holding her breath for a moment. She nodded slowly and gave me a weak smile.

"I am," Santana nodded. "Are you...?"

"Yeah," I smiled. She leaned forward and kissed me soft and slow. I grinned and dragged my fingers up her sides and found her hair, tugging her up a little as I slid my tongue against her lower lip. She made a small sound of protest.

"Britt, seriously, any minute-"

There was a small clicking sound and I shot up. The handle on the front door wiggled and I quickly helped Santana up as we heard Quinn's voice from outside. Santana quickly fixed her hair and I grabbed the remote to turn on the TV as we heard a key scrape against the lock. Santana quickly pulled her arm back to herself instead of wrapping around me like she had instinctively placed it when she sat down next to me. Just in time, too, because Quinn and Rachel bustled in a moment later.

"Hey," Quinn sighed as she dragged her suitcase in. I smiled and wiggled in my seat to tuck my feet beneath me. Santana looked up with an almost bored expression, but the moment we saw Rachel, I think the both of us snapped up a little in surprise. Her brow was creased, hair a little disheveled, and her eyes were red. She fumbled with her suitcase as the door closed on it. Quinn spun around and grabbed the door, but not before Rachel let out a small cry of frustration and tried to kick her bag.

"How was...your flight?" I asked, cautiously glancing at Santana. She shook her head and stood up.

"Fine," Quinn said quietly, taking the suitcase from Rachel and setting it aside. Rachel just stood there, a little frozen and staring at the ground.

"What happened?" Santana said. Rachel glanced up at Santana, and then her lower lip started to quiver and she shook her head. A second later, she threw her arms around Santana and hugged her tightly.

"They broke up," Quinn said quietly.

'They' turned out to be Rachel and her boyfriend, or rather, ex-boyfriend, Finn. Santana managed to pull Rachel over to the couch and we both took turns giving her hugs. Rachel even let go of Santana long enough to cling to me. I held her in my arms while Quinn and Santana moved around to the kitchen, exchanging soft whispers. She had calmed down a bit and sat up once Quinn handed her a mug of tea.

"...I knew it was happening," Rachel mumbled so quietly as she held the mug to her lips. "That he was falling out of love. That we were both falling out of love."

She rolled her eyes, but not the way Santana would roll them. It was the kind of eye roll you did to keep tears from escaping.

"I just thought we would be okay," Rachel sniffled. "After seeing each other again. I missed him so much..."

"Did you guys get in a fight? What happened?" Santana said, brushing Rachel's hair back behind her ear. She was sitting on Rachel's opposite side and Quinn had nestled herself into the recliner. Quinn looked exhausted, but she seemed to be trying holding herself together.

"I... we did," Rachel nodded. "He said I was clinging onto the him from before. That we were growing up and growing apart. That I had to accept that we changed."

"This was after they spent a few nights together," Quinn said frankly. "And yet he neglected to mention that by 'change' he meant 'cheated.'"

Quinn's bluntness didn't exactly help. Rachel let out a soft sob, and Santana hugged her close. She shot Quinn a glare, but Quinn just gave her a tired, apologetic look. There was probably much more to the story than that, but neither Santana or I wanted to press the matter with Rachel starting to blubber up again.

"G-god, I'm so stupid," Rachel cried. "I mean, I know it's hard. A long distance relationship and without _sex_ and everything, but..."

"Rachel, stop it," Santana said firmly. "You're not stupid, and I've told you before. Sex isn't dating."

I was taken aback by that and I think Santana noticed, because her brow furrowed.

"There's more to a relationship than sex," Santana said. "As important as it is, it's not what defines your relationship."

"I thought you meant that you don't need to date someone to have sex," Rachel sniffled, wiping her palm across her cheek. I let out a little snort, and Santana caught my gaze for a second.

"Sure," Santana shrugged. "But when you _are_ dating someone, it shouldn't just be because of sex."

"Finn and I weren't about that," Rachel mumbled. "Not just sex."

"Finn and you were like a broken record, sweetie. One really old, overplayed, bad record. It was painful to watch." Santana sat back a little and frowned at Rachel.

"B-but I liked our songs," Rachel said.

"Eventually, you have to find new songs."

"What?" Rachel murmured. "I don't want to find a new song, Santana, I _love_ Finn."

"I meant that you guys should have been moving forward," Santana frowned. "Even if he hadn't cheated on you, he wasn't making you happy. You wouldn't even talk about him, it hurt you that much."

"I just..." Rachel mumbled and shook her head.

"You're too good for him, Rach," Quinn sighed from the recliner.

"He's just..." Rachel shrugged. "Just my first... everything."

"But he's not going to be your last," I said, trying to be helpful.

"Exactly," Santana nodded. "You'll know when you find the right person. Finn just isn't it."

"I always thought he was," Rachel said, leaning into Santana. I looked up at her and there was a small pang in my chest. It hurt to see Rachel like this, but more so, it hurt to think that someone could make her feel so badly. Someone she cared so much for. Someone she _loved._

"I know how to cheer you up," I smiled and jumped up. Not just Rachel - everyone needed cheering up. I scrambled across the room and into the kitchen, grabbing the bag that was resting on the counter.

"Britt, I don't think that's going to help-"

"Catch!" I shouted, tossing one of the plastic toy guns at Quinn. Her eyes widened in surprise as she caught it. I tossed one to Santana and scrambled around to hand Rachel hers.

"A marshmallow gun?" Rachel hiccuped.

"Not just that," I said, digging into the bag and revealing a puffy package. "Santana drove all the way across town to get vegan marshmallows."

Rachel's lips spread into a weak smile.

"You did?" She let out a small laugh as she looked up to Santana. Santana nodded and smiled sheepishly.

"It's not like I care or anything," Santana shrugged. "It just wouldn't be fun if it was only me and Britt."

"Teams," I said. "I chose Santana!"

"You would," Quinn laughed.

"You're in?" Santana asked, raising a brow at Quinn. "This isn't too childish for you?"

"Of course not," Quinn nodded. "Give me a bag."

Santana had bought four packages of marshmallows, enough for each of us to have our own set. We took a few minutes to tear our guns out of their packaging and figure out how the guns worked. They would use compressed air to shoot marshmallows out and I accidentally shot Santana in the nose with the test shot.

"Oops," I said softly. She shook her head and wrinkled her nose at me, but smiled. I had a feeling if it had been Rachel or Quinn that shot her, a battle would have broken out at that instant.

"Team names," Santana said. "What do you think, Britt?"

"Lopierce," I said, quickly.

"Oh, no, that sounds weird," Santana wrinkled her nose.

"You two should be Santittany," Rachel said. Santana tossed the marshmallow I shot her with at Rachel's face.

"That's a terrible name," Santana said. "And you two should think of your own name."

"Bookworms," Quinn said, looking down at the instructions for the guns.

"No, I don't like worms," Rachel wrinkled her nose. "What about Bunnies? Or Shooting Stars?"

"Team Shooting Stars?" Quinn's brow furrowed. "You're really bad names."

"You came up with Team Bookworms," Rachel grunted.

"I liked the mash up names," Quinn said, leaning back to glance at Santana and I.

"That would make you, what, Quinchel?" Santana said.

"That sounds like a drink," I said. "Quinchel, it'll Quinch your thirst."

"Ew," Quinn wrinkled her nose. "And I thought Santittany was bad."

"Well, Raquinn is worse," Santana said. "Bebray would be okay, I suppose."

"No," Rachel said. "I don't want a mash up name."

"I liked Santittany," I said quietly.

"Brittana," Santana said, poking me on the nose. "Definitely sounds cuter."

"Team Brittana," I shouted, waving my gun in the air.

"Can we be Team Streisand?"

"I could be down with that," Quinn nodded.

"We could go with Team Jeremy," I suggested. "He'd make a good shield, don't you think?"

"No, I like Brittana," Santana said. "We used to come up with mash up names for all the kids in glee club."

"Those were couples, though," Rachel giggled. Santana tensed and I glanced up at her. She stared back at me for a moment before looking away and I followed her gaze to the floor.

"Yeah?" Santana laughed nervously. "'Cause Furt was definitely my favorite."

"Santana, don't talk about him," Quinn said, furrowing her brow.

"Whatever," Santana shrugged. She grabbed my wrist and tugged me towards the stairwell.

"Where are you two going?" Quinn said.

"The Great Marshmallow war starts in 3...! 2...! 1...!" Santana shouted as she dragged me up the stairs. I scrambled after her quickly and she held up her gun as she pulled me back against the wall upstairs. Santana looked really hot, even though she wasn't using a real gun. It was almost enough to distract me from my train of thought. Although I thought it was smart of her to find somewhere with only one point of access and a high vantage point, I had other things on my mind.

"Santana, we could have told them-"

"Britt, focus," Santana said, glancing over her shoulder at the stairs. We could hear Rachel whispering to Quinn a little too loud about their plans to try and bait us back down the stairs. Quinn kept shushing her.

"But Santana," I insisted. "It was like the perfect time to tell them."

"Britt," Santana turned and looked at me. "We'll tell them. Just not right now. We gotta focus on cheering Rachel up, okay?" She smiled reassuringly at me, and I felt myself nod. She grinned a little wider and leaned in to peck my lips.

"Good, now cover me," Santana said. She darted towards the stairs and started shooting down at Rachel and Quinn as they approached the stairs. They shrieked and backed off once I started firing too.

"Damn it, Santana!" Quinn squealed.

"You guys are gonna lose!" Santana shouted, scrambling back up the stairs when her gun ran out of marshmallows. I lingered behind a second and then raced back up as Rachel charged up the stairs. Santana managed to reload her gun quick enough that she shot Rachel the moment she was on the second floor. Rachel tried to shoot us, but somehow, even at close range, all of her marshmallows ended up spewing in every direction _but_ us. In fact, I think she shot herself once or twice. Santana grabbed my hand and tugged me down the hall.

"The fort!" Santana cried. We ducked under the Christmas lights and scrambled inside, frantically drawing back the sheets to block outside access. Quinn must have run up after Rachel, because a second later we heard her curse.

"The fuck? You guys made a fort?"

"This is so cute!" Rachel said in awe.

"That's no fair!" Quinn grumbled.

"Suckahs!" Santana said, pulling the sheet back enough to fit the nozzle of her gun through before blasting marshmallows at them. "Reload your gun, Britt."

"Fuck, Santana!" Quinn shouted. She must have bumped against the spiderweb of lights, because they shook against our tent.

"Team Brittana forever!" Santana cried. I giggled as I stuffed marshmallows into my gun.

"Swap," Santana said, handing me her empty gun. I grinned, munching on a marshmallow as I switched guns with her. She paused and leaned in to kiss me. She licked her lips when she drew back and grinned back.

"My hero," I murmured, still chewing on the marshmallow. For vegan, they weren't bad.

"Let us in!" Quinn said, tearing back the sheet. Santana unloaded all the marshmallows in her gun on Quinn as she scrambled back to the back of the tent.

"Defense, Britt! Do something!"

"Rah!" I cried, abandoning my empty gun in place of one purple pillow pet unicorn and smacked Quinn in the face. She grunted and drew back, but Rachel scrambled in underneath my arms while Quinn and I struggled with the pillow.

"Shit, Rachel!" Santana said, holding up her arms defensively as Rachel shot at her.

"Wait," Santana sat up, and looked quizzically at her. "How the fuck did you miss? You are literally a foot away."

"Ah! Santana!" I cried as Quinn overpowered me, shooting me in the head with a marshmallow. I pretended to fall backwards and writhed on the bed in a fake death. I grabbed at Santana's leg as I pulled myself towards her.

"The end...! It's near! The light, Santana, the light!"

"Don't go!" She cried dramatically, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into a tight hug. I fake choked and gripped at my throat. Like that made any sense, because I would have totally just been dead on the spot after being shot in the head. But it didn't matter. I collapsed in her arms and stopped moving completely.

"Nooo!" Santana cried, grabbing a handful of marshmallows and tossing them at Quinn and Rachel. Quinn started shooting and hit Santana with several marshmallows and she fell over top of me and pretended to die.

"I'm soooorry!" Santana moaned. "I couldn't protect you...!"

"You two are dorks," Quinn laughed. Santana peaked up at her and tossed another marshmallow at her.

"Hey, you're supposed to be dead," I whispered, nudging her from underneath her with my elbow.

"So are you," she whispered back. I felt her wiggle her fingers around underneath us and I slid my hand towards hers. She linked my pinkie in hers tightly.

"Your fort is so cool!" Rachel said, ignoring everything else entirely.

"Is that your mattress, Brittany?" Quinn said as she laid down, her legs poking out of the end of the bed. Rachel twisted and laid her head down too, grabbing a few of the marshmallows and stuffing one in her mouth.

"I _love_ that it looks like stars," Rachel said, raising her hand to poke at one of the lights. Santana twisted a little and moved. I was glad she did, because I was starting to get really uncomfortable with my body contorted underneath hers. She tugged me up and laid down as best she could, letting me nestle into her and rest my head on her stomach, because it was hard enough to find a comfy position with the four of us plus Jeremy in our fort.

"You would," Santana scoffed.

"Is this all you guys did while we were gone? Make forts and rearrange furniture?" Quinn laughed. I turned my head and looked up at Santana, raising a brow at her, squeezing her pinkie in mine reassuringly. I mouthed a question to her, _Now?_

"We had work and shit," Santana said, flicking her eyes away from me. She slipped her hand out of mine and sat up a little. "Don't judge, we were having fun."

"It's like camping," Rachel said, still sliding her hands up against the lights. "Inside. For like, a week long slumber party."

"Hah," I let out a small laugh. I might have agreed if we'd only been sleeping the whole time.

"You guys must have had a really great break," Rachel smiled, looking up at us with her head pressed to the mattress. I smiled back and nodded, even though I felt really sad that it was pretty much over.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I wasn't originally going to include Landslide in the story, because Landslide (I suppose) was about Santana growing to love Brittany over the years and being afraid to take that plunge into new territory with her. But it snuck its way in, literally, because I planned to write the raunchy dance scene that I mentioned later in the chapter instead, but god damn sentimental Santana had to rear her pretty face and start singing about feelings.**

**Anyway, sorry again for the delay - my beta and I are having a bit of difficulties with our schedules because of both of our finals (go figure, we're both animators), so I know it's been a few days since you were expecting an update. I hope this makes people feel better. I got a few messages on tumblr to update because they wanted cheering up. I hope this cheered you up - I've been plotting the marshmallow war for a while. It ended up not being as exciting as I thought it would be, because the gravity of everything else in the chapter outweighed it, but... :) It was still fun to write. **

**Songs are:**

**(For Brittany, opening scene, I suppose): Into the Ocean by Blue October - .com/watch?v=_pIAuwGlbb8**

**and Landslide. I'm not linking you Landslide, because you should already have it. **


	30. Rachel

"Stop pushing it, you're crushing me!"

Quinn was pinned between the wall and my mattress as Santana and I pushed it from the other end. Rachel was trapped in the space in the hallway between Santana and Quinn's because of the divide the mattress made.

"How the hell did you two even get this in there?" Quinn said with a groan as I tugged the mattress back enough to let her slide out.

"I don't know, it was easier coming down the hall than going back up," Santana said.

"Maybe we should just leave it," I said hopefully.

"In the middle of the hallway? Not a chance," Quinn frowned. "We did not just spend two hours trying to move this to give up now."

"We didn't have to spend the last two hours doing this," Santana grumbled. Quinn had insisted we take down our fort after barging into Santana's room this morning. Not really this morning, it was after noon, but I'd forgotten Quinn never remembered to knock. Or maybe she intentionally busted into our rooms. Either way, thank god for the fort, because the veil of the sheets hid the fact that I had been nestled on top of Santana, kissing her neck with my hand up her shirt the moment Quinn came in. It gave us enough time to spread apart and Santana even pretended to be asleep still when Quinn drew back the sheets. I think she was mad we were still in bed when there were marshmallows all over the apartment to pick up.

I had wanted to protest taking apart our fort, but I think it would have brought up questions. Santana seemed pretty resistant to the idea too, because she groaned and moaned and pretended like she couldn't get out of bed until Quinn grabbed her around the ankles and started to drag her out. Santana had snapped awake and caught my hands so that Quinn couldn't pull her all the way to the floor, but we ended up knocking down half the sheets and lights in the struggle.

"We're going to be late for dance, Quinn," Rachel said, leaning against the mattress and laying her arms over top of it.

"Blame them," Quinn said.

"I would have been content with just fixing the fort," I said, resting my chin on my hands as I copied Rachel to lean against the mattress from the other side.

"It's really almost time to go," Rachel said. "We can figure this out later?"

"Nah," Santana shrugged. "You two go. Britt and I will figure out the mattress thing. It's okay if I miss a class." I twisted my head to look at Santana, resting my temple over my hands and smiled at her. I liked that suggestion, because it meant we would have some alone time to figure out a new game plan.

"You're not even taking dancing seriously," Quinn said, folding her arms over her chest.

"Me and Britt went dancing earlier this week," Santana said. "A couple times, actually."

"I should just give you private lessons," I murmured, wrinkling my nose at her and winking. She flushed and hesitated for a second, but then I think it triggered in her head that no one else but her could see my face the way I was positioned with my back to Quinn and my head tilted away from Rachel.

"They _are_ more helpful," Santana said with a flick of her head in a sort of sideways nod.

"Whatever," Quinn sighed, slipping around the mattress to get to her room. "Rachel, come on. Hurry up." Quinn disappeared behind her door and Rachel wiggled around to the other side of the hallway.

"You two better get that mattress into Brittany's room before we get back," Rachel said quietly. "She's not in a good mood."

"Why is that?" I frowned.

"She's exhausted from yesterday," Santana said. Rachel's expression dropped a little.

"Rach, it's not your fault," Santana shook her head as her brow furrowed. "Go to dance class and have fun. It'll do both of you some good."

"Yeah," Rachel nodded. "You're right. All the physical activity will help with the release of endorphins-"

"Why would there be dolphins at the dance studio?" I interjected.

"Endorphins, babe," Santana whispered. "It's a chemical your body produces when...you know what it means, don't you?"

"I _am_ a dance major," I grinned and I looked up at her, wondering if she realized she just called me 'babe' instead of 'Britt.' She rolled her eyes and I twirled along the length of the mattress, nearly colliding with Rachel as I arrived at the other end.

"You two are ridiculous," Rachel laughed as she caught herself and started down the hallway. When she disappeared into her room, I smiled up at Santana.

"She seems like she's doing well," I said. Santana gave a slight shrug and lifted at the other end of the mattress.

"Rachel can be a real drama queen at times, but she can also hold herself together pretty well," Santana said as I helped with the mattress. I think we had both secretly been sabotaging the attempts to remove the mattress from Santana's room earlier, because now that we were the only ones working with it, it was much easier to drag back into her room a little. I had been pushing it the wrong way earlier so it would wedge into the door jam because I didn't want it out of her room. I wondered if it had been the same for Santana, although I had a sneaking suspicion that it was partially because she didn't want to get on her hands and knees and fish all the marshmallows out from around the living room.

We waited until Rachel and Quinn hurried back down the hallway to the stairs to move the mattress again. In the meantime, I had been content with leaning against the top of the mattress, which was really its side, with my arms spread over the top of it trying to reach to the other side. Santana playfully tried to meet my hands by copying how I was sprawled, but we could barely graze our fingertips. It was a silent struggle, but she and I managed to stretch enough so that I could hook my fingers in hers. It was a momentary attachment, because a second later, Quinn was bustling out of her room and Santana and I shot apart. I hated it.

"Ugh, when we get back, I have some serious homework to do," Quinn muttered. "I can't believe I didn't do anything the whole break."

"Uh-oh." The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could even think. Did I have homework? I couldn't remember. Shit.

"Quinn Fabray? Neglect her coursework? Holy crap, the world is coming to an end," Santana mocked. Quinn grabbed Rachel's arm and flipped Santana off without glancing back. Santana stuck out her tongue, but the visual was lost on them as they disappeared down the stairs.

"Do you have homework?" I asked.

"Nope," Santana said. "My professors actually like the idea of breaks and gave us time off. What about you?"

"I don't know. I don't remember getting assigned anything, but I should check my e-mail," I said, lifting the mattress up again as Santana dipped down too. It took us all of three minutes to get it down the hall and placed back on my bed before we flopped down on it. Santana rolled into me and nuzzled her nose against my cheek as I let my fingers scratch up the side of her arm.

"What were we talking about?" Santana murmured.

"Homework," I said softly, gazing at her from beneath the tussled mess that was my hair. She lifted her hand to brush it out of my face.

"Procrastinate five more minutes," Santana said before moving the last few centimeters to kiss me. I didn't mind putting off homework to kiss Santana. I didn't mind a whole lot of things because of her. But I did mind one thing.

"Santan-" I murmured as she deepened the kiss, brushing her tongue against my lips, her hand tangling to wrap around the back of my head as she turned into me. I heard her inhale softly and I let my hand fall to her waist. She tried to roll on top of me, but I held my hand firm and pressed her back flat onto the mattress. I felt her smile against me and she swept her other hand up, but when she tried to kiss me more, I just held my lips to hers. I pressed a little weight and pressure to her lips and held there, resisting as best I could to her touches. It was so hard to do, but I wanted so badly to talk to her.

"Britt...?" Santana said as she pulled away from my lips. Her hands untangled from my hair and cupped my cheeks and I pulled back a little, letting my clenched eyelids open to look down at her. Her brow was furrowed, and I was sure mine was too.

"Last night," I muttered softly. "Last night, we had agreed that telling Quinn and Rachel wasn't a good idea with Rachel upset, but... Santana, we need to figure out what we're going to do."

Santana's brow didn't soften nor did her expression change much as she lifted her hand to fix my hair again. She looked down, which wasn't really down, it was more to the side, and let out a soft, almost silent sigh.

"We _are_ going to tell them, right?" I asked. Santana bit her lip, continuing to avoid my gaze.

"Brittany, I want to..." Santana sighed.

"...there's not going to be a perfect time, Santana," I murmured. "The longer we wait..."

"I know," Santana nodded, dropping her hand over her forehead and twisting to the side, burying her face into her arm. I shifted a little so that I wasn't putting so much weight on her and then tickled my hand up over her stomach and grabbing her other hand to give a gentle squeeze.

"You said you were ready," I said. It came out as more of a whine. I didn't want to sound accusatory, but I just wanted to know if we were actually going to tell them or not. The build up of not telling them and wanting to tell them was stressful enough.

"I did. I was- I am," Santana shook her head. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than me.

"You're not," I whispered, twisting my hand so that I could tangle my fingers into hers.

"It's just... I had it in my head that it would be easier," Santana said. "To tell them, instead of dealing with being walked in on. That was terrible."

"It was," I agreed.

"But... Brittany, when Quinn and Rachel walked through that door, it was like... a flood gate broke in my head," Santana mumbled. "That this is real, and there are real consequences."

"What do you mean?" I asked, sitting back a little.

"We're not the only ones affected by this, Brittany," Santana sighed. "Rachel's upset with her break up, and Quinn is stressed out and worried-"

"So when they're not anymore, we'll tell them," I nodded. "We can wait."

"It's not just that," Santana murmured. "I'm scared."

"I know-"

"You don't," Santana said. "Brittany, you haven't been hiding for all this time."

I stared down at her and felt my brow twitch.

"I didn't mean it like that," Santana said, peeling her arm away from her face. She looked earnestly up at me, and I think she tried to smile, but the corners of her lips just kind of trembled a little. I stared down at her and saw her eyes start to water, and any offense I had taken to her statement immediately faded.

"How am I supposed to tell Quinn?" Santana said. Her voice was thin and when she blinked, tears started to stream down the sides of her face. "She's been there this whole time...for me and for everything... and after all she's gone through... and... and it feels like I lied. Like I'm this horrible, t-terrible person."

I laid back down onto her and pressed my forehead to hers, slipping my other hand up to stroke my thumb against her wet cheek as I cupped it gently. I kissed her. I kissed her soft and slow and pulled my lips away only to kiss her again.

"You're not a terrible person," I murmured, squeezing our intertwined hands. I moved and kissed along her cheek, up the trail of tears as I stroked my thumb on the other side. She let out a small hiccup of a gasp and I brought my lips up to her forehead and held there, waiting for her to catch her breath.

"I...will... we'll tell them," Santana said. "I p-promise. I j-just..."

"It's okay, Santana," I whispered. "It's okay."

"I'm so sorry," Santana murmured.

"You don't have to be sorry," I said. "When you have people in your life you care about, it's hard to talk to them sometimes. You don't want them to think less of you... or to lose them."

Santana froze against me for a moment and then slowly slid her free palm to my collarbone and pressed against me. I sat up a little and looked down at her. I knew I was frowning, but I tried to smile. I wanted to be strong for Santana, but it was hard to be.

"I'm not pushing you away," Santana said after a long while.

"I know," I nodded. My brow furrowed a little again, and I let out a soft laugh at a thought I had.

"What?"

"I...ugh, no," I shook my head.

"You can talk to me," Santana said, her lips finally able to crack into a tiny smile. She still looked a little weepy, but she sniffled and tried not to cry anymore. I looked away and sighed, and she slid her hand up and down my arm until I brought my gaze shyly back to hers.

"...do you still like Quinn?"

"Not even a little," Santana said immediately.

"Why?" I said, furrowing my brow at how quickly she responded.

"I gave up on that years ago, Brittany," Santana said, lifting her hand from my chest to cup my cheek. "She's sweet, and kind, and she's one of my best friends. But she could never like me that way. It was tough to deal with, but... I don't like her at all anymore."

"But she's pretty," I whispered softly, glancing away.

"Quinn's a pretty girl," Santana nodded. "But... you're beautiful."

"I'm not," I blushed. "You're beautiful. I'm like a duck to a swan."

"You're a swan," Santana stretched forward and pecked her lips to my nose. "An elegant, gorgeous, beautiful swan. You're not a duck."

"You're not a shark," I whispered.

"Then we're agreed we're not the animals we thought we were," Santana giggled. I smiled and nuzzled my nose to hers until she kissed me. A sigh escaped my lips, and after that, we just lay there, pressed tightly together, holding hands and faces. Maybe we didn't know exactly what we were going to do or how we were going to tell Quinn and Rachel. Maybe it would take a long time to finally be open about everything- for things to be as pleasant and warm and safe as our time together the last few days in our mattress fort. It felt a little like now that the walls were down and our beds were separated again, all the scary things were coming out to play. But Santana was there, and her arms were safer than any fort or castle could be.

* * *

><p>Santana bit down on my neck, and I had to clench my teeth to keep from shouting out. It was late, and I had snuck into her room. This time we remembered to lock the door, and now that the fort was gone it was easier to move around in her bed. Or rather, roll around. It was odd how a matter of days could make me become so comfortable with something, especially when that something was being loud during sex. A soft whimper found its way up my throat and escaped in a muffled way that I could only believe was through my nose, because my lips were clamped so tightly shut.<p>

"Britt," Santana murmured. She rocked her hips against my hand at the same time that she forced her fingers deeper inside me. I tried not to, but a sort-of loud gasp escaped my mouth. She brought her lips up to mine, swallowing them up. I could tell she was holding back moans, too, but she was doing a much better job at it. I was terrified that I would shout when I finally came undone. She squeezed my left hand in her right and I looked up. She was gazing down at me, her damp forehead pressed to mine as she continued to rock against me. Her eyelids were heavy, like she could barely keep them open, and she had strands of hair stuck to her face. I could see small beads of sweat forming on her brow.

"M-mm!" I felt myself shoot up a little and my eyes widened. She gripped my hand tighter and pressed her weight down on me to keep me still. I twitched and felt my legs move on their own. My fingers slipped from inside Santana, but she waited until I had stopped fidgeting to do anything about it. She slipped her hand away from me and held my hand to guide it back inside her. I flushed at how wet she had gotten, and the stickiness of me on her fingers. She lifted her hips and rocked down, pulling her lips away from mine as she took in a sharp breath. I held mine as I gazed up at her and watched her clench her eyes shut. She bit her lip and rocked harder, and I swear she was the most mesmerizing thing I'd ever seen. I always thought that, but I was reminded of it when she let out a small, tiny cry and I felt her clench around my fingers. She squirmed for a moment and then slumped into me, panting softly against my neck. Her heart was pounding through her ribcage against mine, and I think we both needed to just lay there a while to catch our breath.

Santana snuggled her body against mine and nuzzled her nose to my cheek, pressing weak kisses to my face. I smiled and kissed her gently back until she rolled off of me, and I turned to my side to hold her hand and stare down at her. She was tired, definitely too sleepy to say anything. That was okay. I watched as her eyes slowly closed and she hummed in this way that I could tell her whole body was sighing into it. It was an appreciative hum. Soft and quiet, and just for me.

I didn't know if she fell asleep right away or not, but I just kept looking at her. My fingers trailed up along her naked side, tickling over her hip and dipping down at her waist only to rise again with her ribcage. A smile spread to my lips, because I could name every muscle and bone that my fingers dragged over as I touched them.

A lot had happened in a little bit of time, but I still felt like things were moving in slow motion. I wanted time to jump forward so that we could be happily together without worrying about anyone else, but at the same time, I didn't want to miss a single moment with Santana. I closed my eyes and sighed.

"Brittany..." Santana murmured. My eyes snapped open, and I realized I had dozed off. The room was a little lighter, not by much, but also a dull kind of gray color. Santana was breathing softly in the same place she had been when I had last had the pleasure of looking at her. My brow furrowed as I listened for her voice, but only heard soft pitter-patters of rainfall. I looked past her to the window and saw that it was raining again. I guess they didn't say April showers for nothing.

"Santana?" I whispered softly as I rose my head off the pillow. She was silent, aside from the soothing sound of her breathing. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to her forehead, wondering if I'd been dreaming her voice all along. When I pulled my lips away, I felt how dry they felt and realized my whole mouth felt a little parched. I carefully sat up, scratching my neck through strands of my hair.

It still was really dark in Santana's room, and I had to squint around the floor to find my underwear. I almost laughed at the state of her room. We had clothes everywhere, torn off and tossed away without a care. I wasn't sure where any of my other clothes were as I slipped on my underwear. I placed my hands on my hips. It was raining, so I couldn't go out the fire escape to my own room. That was fine. I dipped down and grabbed Santana's hoodie. It was the nearest thing to me, and it was large enough to cover most of me anyway. I'd be quick. It was early, and no one would be awake this early on a Sunday.

I slipped out of Santana's room and tiptoed down the hallway, careful not to step on the spot that squeaked. I made my way down to the kitchen and pulled out a glass. I reminded myself to not grab the one with the star on it, because that was Rachel's glass. I used it while she was away because I liked it a lot, but I knew now that she was home, I wouldn't get away with using it anymore. I filled it with water from the refrigerator and leaned against the kitchen island to look out the window over the sink.

The rain was still coming down at the same steady pace it had been when I was laying next to Santana. I loved rain. It had this calm, soothing nature about it. I closed my eyes and listened. The drips were off rhythm and disorganized, but it was the sort of ill-timed sound that was pleasant. I think the only thing I liked listening to more was Santana's heartbeat. Or her breathing. Or her humming and singing. Nevermind. I liked listening to everything Santana more than the rain. But it was a good second option.

How quickly Santana always came to my mind puzzled me. I knew I was always thinking about her, but it was like I could never not think about her. I wondered if it was just because the last week, all I had - all I wanted - to focus on was her. I could picture her perfectly in my head, with all the contours of her body and the delicate smoothness of her skin. How her hair fell perfectly even when it was a mess from my hands tangling in it. The wrinkles that formed when she would scrunch up her nose or peel her lips back over her teeth to smile. Her eyelashes and how they looked like feathers. I could see it all vividly in my mind, but I knew my imagination couldn't compare to the real thing.

I opened my eyes to look back at the rain. Everything was Santana, and Santana was everything. In the past week, she had surprised me in so many ways. No, the past month, really. Everything about her was unexpected. Like earlier, when we were talking, I don't know what I was expecting. I had been afraid to bring up Quinn and Rachel, even though I knew it was necessary. Yet, she had been honest and kind, as always. How was one person so perfect?

I didn't want to keep hiding our relationship. I had my apprehensions at first, but now I knew it was going to be almost impossible to slip back into concealing everything again. I had swiftly fallen into this routine with Santana. Into this mesmerizing dance that only we knew the steps to. It was the best dance I'd ever been introduced to, but it was frustrating that I couldn't explain the choreography. I couldn't show anyone else this brilliant, beautiful dance. And I was a dancer. That's what I was meant to do.

The flickering of lights drew me from my thoughts, and I jumped, nearly spilling water all over myself. I shot away from the counter and spun around, only to step quickly back towards it to shield my lower half. My eyes were wide when I saw Rachel stumble past on the other side of the kitchen island and to the refrigerator.

"Mornin', Brittany," she mumbled. My heart was racing in my chest. I had really screwed up. How was I supposed to get around her and back upstairs in just my underwear? Maybe she wouldn't notice. She looked really sleepy. Why was she even up this early on a Sunday? Wait. Why did I think it was Sunday? It was totally Monday. Crap, crap, crap.

Rachel pulled out a carton of soy milk from the refrigerator and moved to the cupboard. I stepped around the kitchen island, keeping my legs pressed as close to it as possible so she wouldn't see me in my underwear.

"I thought you went to Juilliard," Rachel said as she pulled out her star glass. "Not NYU-"

I froze. She froze. I think my heart stopped.

"Oh wow," Rachel said after a long pause. She twisted around and looked at me. Then she took a step towards me, and I tried to move, but I was still frozen. She moved around the counter enough that I was sure she could tell I was just wearing underwear underneath Santana's NYU hoodie. She leaned on the counter and set her glass down as she shook her head.

"Wow, I really am blind," Rachel laughed.

"Shit," I exhaled. Wait. Laughed? I was delayed in my response. My eyes snapped back up to meet hers and she had twisted around to grab her carton of soy milk and was busying herself with filling her glass.

"Um," I said, my brow furrowing.

"I suppose that explains why Santana has been in such a good mood," Rachel said, raising her glass to her lips and taking a sip. "Oh well. Whatever. I suggest you go back upstairs before Quinn wakes up."

"Wait- You...? Don't even- You didn't even bat an eye," I said, my brow furrowing as I gaped at her. I was more confused than ever. Did she know? Or didn't she? I thought it was obvious, but... What?

"Eh," Rachel shrugged. "I have two gay dads, Brittany."

"...huh?"

"If you're happy, and Santana is happy-"

"It's not that, we're not," I shook my head, holding my hands in the air as I tried my best to lie.

"Brittany... You're in your underwear, cute underwear, by the way," Rachel noted, and I blushed. "Wearing Santana's hoodie with a bunch of hickeys up your neck."

I slapped my hand to my neck and flushed. Those weren't just hickeys, I was sure of it. I winced a little because one of them was definitely a bruise where Santana had sunk her teeth into my neck.

"I don't mind if something goes on between you two," Rachel said, smiling before taking another sip from her glass. "If you're just friends, fine, but if you're something more? Brittany, that's great."

"...Really?" I blinked. I dragged my hand away from my neck. Was this real? I had to be still asleep.

"Why shouldn't it be?" Rachel said. "I just feel silly for not realizing it sooner. That was Santana in your room, wasn't it? That one time?"

"...yes," I nodded slowly. There was no sense lying after I'd already been caught.

"Oh, that was before the party- ...Oh, wow, Quinn and Tina really..." Rachel's brow furrowed. "That top secret plan they were working on seems really mean now. I mean, making Santana kiss you everytime she cursed...? No wonder she started crying last week. I mean, aside from being drunk."

"...It's okay," I shrugged. "I like kissing Santana."

"...so you two are...?" Rachel asked quietly.

"Dating? Yes," I nodded slowly. "But it's a secret..." I wrinkled my nose a little and frowned.

"I assumed as much," Rachel nodded. "Well, I won't say anything to Quinn, then."

"And to Santana?" I asked quietly. "...she's scared, but after Tina and Mike found out, I think she really wants to be in control of how other people find out."

"Tina and Mike know?" Rachel said, raising a brow.

"Yeah," I nodded. "It's complicated."

"Okay," Rachel said. "I won't say anything. To Quinn or Santana. But Brittany, you should really get back upstairs," Rachel said, glancing at the clock on the stove. "Quinn usually gets up soon for class."

"Thanks," I said, pushing away from the island and hopping quickly to the stairs.

"Brittany?"

I paused halfway up the stairs and looked down at her.

"I'm happy for you and Santana," Rachel said. "Please try to get her to understand she doesn't have to be afraid to be honest with us."

"...I will," I smiled.

When I arrived outside of Santana's door, I saw Quinn's light flick on. I scrambled into Santana's room quickly and shut the door, carefully locking it so that the clicking sound of the lock was as silent as possible. I tiptoed my way back to Santana's bed and tried to carefully crawl into bed without waking her. She snapped awake and took in a breath of air through her nose that was more like a loud sniff, blinking blearily up at me as I scooted closer to her.

"Where'd you go?" Santana murmured, wrapping her arm around me and pulling me closer to her. I kissed her forehead and let her snuggle into me.

"Bathroom," I said, because it was simpler.

"I missed you," she murmured.

"Were you even awake?" I giggled.

"No," Santana smiled and gave me a wet smooch. "But I still missed you."

"Go back to sleep," I murmured. She nodded against me and hugged me closer.

"Don't leave again," she sighed. "You sleep too."

"Okay," I promised. We had a few more hours of sleep before class, and I didn't have anywhere else to be.

* * *

><p>"Thank you so much," Quinn said, stretching her hands over the counter for the plastic bag Santana was holding. She was seated on a stool with a book in her lap. Santana looked around at the mix of old and new, tattered and pristine books that lined shelves around the small bookstore. It had been a while since she had visited Quinn at work.<p>

"I couldn't let my homegirl starve, could I?" Santana smirked, grabbing a mismatched chair that was next to the counter and sat down across from Quinn. The blonde began to untie the plastic bag that had a bright yellow smiley face on it and retrieved a container of chinese food.

"Lifesaver," Quinn murmured. "I was not expecting Kurt to call me in."

"What was that about, anyway?" Santana asked.

"I have no idea, he just said he had to drive to the airport," Quinn shrugged. "I think they might have misplaced his suitcase."

"I forgot Kurt went back to Lima, too," Santana said, grabbing the extra plastic fork from the bag and stealing a piece of Quinn's orange chicken.

"Hey!" Quinn swatted her hand at Santana.

"Too late," Santana said, shoving her fork in her mouth. "Didja get all your homework done?"

"Yeah, I actually read most of the material ahead of time, I just had to finish a paper," Quinn shrugged. "What about you?"

"I didn't have any, although I got assigned a pretty intense project today in my record mixing class," Santana sighed. "I have a few weeks to work on it, though, so it's not a big deal."

"So you didn't have anything to do all break except go to the beach and work?" Quinn said, raising a brow. "I'm jealous."

"What on earth did you end up doing in Lima?" Santana wrinkled her nose.

"Caught up with friends," Quinn said. "I visited Mr. Schue and met some of the new glee kids with Rachel. They look so little. Were we that little?"

"Nah," Santana said. "People are devolving into weird, tiny midget people. The start of the pandemic _was_ Rachel."

Quinn let out a laugh, but covered her mouth and then gently knocked her fist against Santana's arm.

"That's mean," Quinn said.

"You laughed," Santana grinned. "How's _Teen Jesus_?"

"Graduated, last year," Quinn said furrowing her brow. "You know we don't talk anymore."

"Shame," Santana rose her brow. "With as much a hippie as you've become, you two would have been good together."

"Shut up," Quinn rolled her eyes. "Just because I work here doesn't make me a hippie."

"You work at a bookstore called 'The Rabbit Hole' and half your customers don't wear shoes," Santana said, furrowing her brow. "Or have weird, creepy beards. Even the women."

"It's indie," Quinn said, as if she'd had this discussion before as she rolled her eyes.

"Whatever," Santana shrugged. "See anyone else while you were there?"

"I visited Artie at the hospital," Quinn said.

"Oh? Why is he in the hospital?" Santana said, dropping her fork.

"Do you not check Facebook or Twitter or anything?" Quinn frowned. "He withdrew for the semester to go home for surgery."

"What happened? Is he okay?"

"More than okay," Quinn said, a soft smile forming on her lips. "Apparently, he was a prime candidate for a stem cell transplant."

"Wow. Fuck, for real?" Santana said, her jaw dropping.

"Yeah... it's crazy," Quinn said.

"Can he...? Can he walk?"

"Of course not," Quinn shook her head. "Not yet. But there are signs of regeneration, so there's hope. Even if he regains feeling, though, he'd have a lot of intense physical therapy to go through. His leg muscles are virtually nonexistent."

"That's just...wow," Santana leaned back in her chair. "That's amazing. I really hope it works."

"Yeah, me too. I spent a lot of time talking to him about it," Quinn nodded. "He told me that he's hoping... that maybe he can walk at his graduation."

"Same as you..." Santana whispered softly. Quinn nodded sheepishly. The two were silent for a moment. After a while, Quinn let out a soft laugh.

"Enough of that. We should just be happy for him and keep him in our thoughts," Quinn said softly. "Anyway, what did you do all break?"

"Oh, well," Santana shrugged. "We went to the beach. Got a tan. Britt and I pretty much spent most of our free time outside of work watching TV and stuff when we got back. It's been raining a lot lately, so we stayed in for most of the time."

"Sounds cozy," Quinn smiled. "What sparked the mattress fort?"

"Oh," Santana laughed nervously. "I don't know. Alcohol?"

"Right," Quinn rolled her eyes. "I'd like to see the two of you drunk try and build a fort. You'd end up making it out of clothes and tears."

"We weren't drunk," Santana said. "It was just for fun."

"Brittany is such a kid at heart," Quinn shook her head. "At first I just thought she was immature, but I think it's almost... refreshing."

"I know, right?" Santana said, more quickly than she had intended. She almost blushed, but did end up smiling sheepishly. Quinn leaned her elbow on the counter and rested her chin in her palm as she looked back at Santana. Her eyes darted back and forth like she was scanning Santana's features for something.

"What?" Santana said.

"Nothing," Quinn shook her head. "I just feel like I'm missing something."

"Why do you say that?" Santana said as her brow furrowed.

"You're different lately," Quinn said. "Not just now, before break too. Ever since Tina moved out and Brittany moved in."

"I feel different," Santana shrugged lightly. "But in a good way. I don't know."

"Why's that?" Quinn rose her brow.

"Maybe it's the dance lessons?" Santana laughed.

"Says the girl that keeps skipping them," Quinn said, flicking a single grain of rice at the Latina. "I don't even know why you bother going."

"I like dancing," Santana said softly. "And I make them up."

"Yeah, with _Brittany_," Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Do you not like her, or something?" Santana said. Her brow furrowed slightly and her one hand balled into a small fist.

"I don't dislike her, no," Quinn shrugged. "I'm just... warming up to her, you know?"

"I don't see how you need time to warm up to her. She's amazing," Santana sighed.

"Well, you would know," Quinn said, narrowing her eyes. Santana looked up in surprise, but then Quinn shrugged. "You have a monopoly on her time."

"Sorry?" Santana said.

"It's fine," Quinn leaned back and picked up her book from her lap. "It's nice that you enjoy someone's company so much, even if it means we never really see either of you. It's honestly not _that_ much different. You used to just sleep instead."

Santana flushed and looked at the ground.

"Santana, can I ask you something?" Quinn glanced up over her book. "Did we do something? Rachel and I? And Tina? To make you so miserable before?"

"What?" Santana straightened. "No, of course not. I wasn't miserable-"

"I don't want to offend you, S, but you were pretty depressed," Quinn said. "But it's like you turned over a completely new leaf. You stopped staying late at work, and I haven't heard any stories from Tina about you hooking up with randoms. You've been home every night and going to all your classes... it's nice. I just don't understand what happened."

Santana pursed her lips a moment before letting her tongue run over them. She took in a deep breath and then sighed a little audibly.

"I don't know," Santana said quietly. "Maybe... Brittany does have something to do with it."

"I just don't get how one person can make all the difference," Quinn shook her head. "Am I boring?"

"Quinn, what the fuck?" Santana said as her eyes darted up.

"Brittany is always so cheerful and full of energy. Like I said, she's like a kid," Quinn said quietly. "I just feel like she's more fun to hang out with. For you to hang out with."

"Q," Santana frowned. "Me and Britt and me and you are different, yeah. But you're still one of my best friends. Same as Tina... and yeah, Rachel too. And while we're at it, throw in Mercedes."

"What about Kurt?" Quinn laughed.

"Why not? Kurt too," Santana grinned. "I just feel like Brittany has so much catching up to do. I didn't mean to neglect you guys."

"No, it's fine," Quinn shook her head. "Like I said, it's not that you're spending less time with us."

"You're not boring, Q," Santana shook her head. "But you could put down a book once in awhile and just goof off with us."

"Okay," Quinn said, setting down her book. "But just promise to talk with me more, then."

"Sure. We'll make you-me days," Santana said. "Get lunch or something."

"Sounds like high school," Quinn laughed. "We used to get breakfast every morning."

"Until senior year when you quit Cheerios," Santana nodded. "But then we would get lunch instead."

"I miss that," Quinn smiled. "What happened to that? I feel like we lost touch after high school, even if we live together."

"You went to Yale that first year," Santana shook her head.

"And when I came back, you became this shadow of your former self," Quinn frowned.

"Maybe I got a big dose of reality smacked into me," Santana mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," Santana shook her head. "College was just different from what I was expecting. We all wanted to get out of Lima so bad, but I didn't think it would be such a big adjustment. Look, whatever the case, I'm over it."

"I still don't know what you got over," Quinn sighed as a customer walked in to the store. Santana leaned back in her chair as Quinn straightened a little and gave the person a polite smile.

* * *

><p>Santana dragged her fingers through my damp hair to delicately untangle it before she started to braid it. I had just finished tying her hair back into an intricate french braid, and she was attempting to do the same for me. We'd taken turns showering, because obviously we couldn't do that <em>either<em>, but it was nice to have some alone time with her after a long day of work and classes. It really hadn't been that long, a two hour class and three hours at work. Plus, Santana picked me up from class and took me to get lunch inbetween the two. When she finished braiding my hair, I leaned back into her and sighed.

It was hard not telling Santana that Rachel found at this morning. Part of me just wanted to blurt out to her what happened, but I had already resolved over lunch that whether or not Rachel knew, the problem was that Santana didn't have the confidence to tell Quinn. In fact, I think Quinn being the only one of Santana's closest friends not to know made it more stressful. She didn't need that kind of pressure. I just wished I knew how Quinn would react.

"Santana," I said softly. Her arms folded around me and she kissed me sweetly on the cheek.

"Yeah, baby?" Santana smiled nuzzling her nose to mine as I looked up at her. Her eyes seemed to brighten the moment I caught her gaze. I faltered a little. Maybe bringing up Quinn again was a bad idea.

"I'm so glad you don't have work tonight," I murmured softly.

"Me too," Santana said, pecking me on the lips. "But it sucks you have homework."

"No, not really," I said as I forward and tapping on the trackpad of my computer. "My professor sent us a song to work on, but it's for my repertory class. So I have until Friday to work on it."

"So this wasn't a spring break assignment?" Santana asked, nuzzling her nose against my neck for a second before nestling her chin on my shoulder.

"No, the email was sent this morning," I said. "Madison texted me about it at work asking if we could get together and work on it."

"Madison?" Santana said. Her grip around me tightened momentarily.

"Yeah, she's my friend from school," I said. "She and I and Jenna were super close last year, but then Jenna graduated and..."

I paused and furrowed my brow. I hadn't thought about Jenna in forever. I felt myself relax when I realized if it hadn't have been for Jenna, I wouldn't have moved in with Santana. And who knows if I would have really gotten to know her through Mike's dance class. I would have probably felt too sheepish to talk to her.

"Madison and I had a few classes last semester, but she's a senior, and so her last semester is mostly independent course work and fourth year classes," I said quietly. "So we only have the one."

"I thought for a second she was one of the girls that made fun of you," Santana murmured quietly.

"No way," I laughed. "Not Madison. Madison is awesome. The girls in most of my classes are actually really nice. Just Tara and Avery don't like me... probably because I'm a junior."

"They're just jealous," Santana said. "Because you're pretty and smart and talented."

"I'm not," I said, flushing a little. She tickled her fingers up my stomach, and when I laughed and looked back at her, she caught me with a kiss.

"You're kind," Santana said. "And sexy. And funny. Beautiful. Amazing." Every word she said was followed by a kiss, and at some point she sat up and moved so that she was pressing into me and that I had to lay back against my mattress from under her weight.

"You're just saying that because you're my girlfriend," I giggled. She lifted from me a little and pouted.

"That's not true," Santana said. "I'm not complimenting you because you're my girlfriend. You're my girlfriend because you're all those things and more. I'm lucky to have you."

"Stop embarrassing me," I giggled.

"And cute," Santana murmured before dipping down to press her lips to mine again. I wrapped my arm around her neck so she couldn't pull away and say anything else. I was getting so red in the face. She didn't protest much, and instead, inhaled through her nose before parting her lips to let her tongue slide wetly and warmly over mine. Her hand tightened its grip on my waist. I hadn't even realized she had it placed there until her fingers dug in. I felt my blush expanded over my whole body. It was embarrassing how quickly that warmth spread over me. We weren't even really doing much more than kissing, and I already wanted to tear her clothes off.

I started to slide my hand over her breast when a knock came at the door. I could tell it was Rachel's knock, because Quinn never did, but there was an unusual pause after it as we shot apart.

"C-come in?" I said, glancing warily at Santana as she ran her palm over her shirt to brush down any wrinkles. Santana's eyes were a little wide and her lips were pursed together tightly. The door opened and Rachel poked her head in.

"Hi," Rachel waved. "I don't mean to intrude or anything..."

My cheeks flushed, but I couldn't help the small smile that escaped my lips. Rachel definitely was interrupting, but it almost made me laugh because I could tell by her word choice she _knew_ she was interrupting something.

"What do you want?" Santana snapped. I glanced at her and she softened. "Sorry, I mean, it's just if you needed something, say it."

"I thought since we're all back and home and everything, and yesterday we were all busy scrambling to do homework, we could take the opportunity to start up Movie Night Mondays again," Rachel shrugged.

"Movie Night Mondays?" I asked.

"Yeah, we all have Monday nights off," Santana said. "And you do too, wow, look at that."

"It's perfect, right?" Rachel smiled.

"M n' Ms," I grinned. "Sounds awesome."

"I never noticed that," Rachel laughed. "We should get chocolate as a theme. So are you two in?"

"Yeah," Santana nodded and stood up from the bed. "Sure."

"Alright. Brittany, can I steal you for a second?"

"Why?" Santana said, furrowing her brow. We were standing at the door and Santana paused to look down at Rachel.

"Maybe I wanted to ask Brittany to braid my hair, too," Rachel said, pointing to Santana's hair. "And I need her help picking out hair ties."

"Whatever," Santana tossed her hand in the air. "Then Quinn and I will pick a movie and you two can't complain about what we chose."

"Like I would," I said softly to Santana. Her frown faded and she smiled back at me before disappearing down the stairs.

"We'll be down in a minute," Rachel said and grabbed my hand to pull me out of my room into hers and closed the door behind me. She smiled toothily at me and motioned for me to sit on her bed as she walked across her room to her desk.

"Did you really want me to braid your hair?" I asked as I sat down. I forgot how fluffy her bed was. It was softer than Santana and my beds, but not in the good way. It was too mushy. I felt like I was going to get swallowed up by it.

"Oh," Rachel furrowed her brow. "Uh, yes, but I really just wanted to talk to you about um... you and Santana."

"Okay," I nodded slowly. I figured as much. We hadn't really talked this morning a whole lot when she found out.

"I ran into Tina and Mike today for lunch," Rachel said, turning around, holding a few hair ties and a headband in her hand. I would have smiled, but I was more concerned with what she was saying than what she was doing.

"Quinn was supposed to join us, but she got called in to work," Rachel said. "Kurt called out for some reason. I don't know. Anyway." Rachel sat down next to me on the bed. She didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that the mattress sank several inches under her weight like I had been.

"You're lucky," Rachel said and I felt myself tense up a little. "Because the first thing Tina asked me was how things went with us and you two."

"Shit," I groaned. I was so glad to have Mike to talk to, but Tina really was more of a hindrance than help.

"She updated me on what happened in Myrtle Beach," Rachel said, placing her palm gently on my knee. "I'm really sorry that they found out that way. I'm sorry I found out the way I did, too."

"It's okay," I shrugged.

"No, it's not," Rachel shook her head. "Brittany, Quinn and Tina have been messing with you guys for a few weeks now. That's not fair, especially because, from what Mike told me, you and Santana are still having a little trouble figuring things out."

"We are not... we're dating," I said softly. "Secretly."

"Exactly my point. You're not ready to tell people, for whatever reason that is," Rachel said. She squeezed my knee a little and I looked up to see her smiling at me gently.

"I explained to Tina that you guys hadn't told us yet," Rachel said. "I can only assume it had a little something to do with Finn."

"We didn't want to make you feel bad-"

"I get it. And I appreciate that," Rachel said, nodding. "But Finn and I are my issue. What's more, is I think there's more to the story."

I nodded slowly.

"I politely asked Tina not to talk about it directly to Quinn, or me, or you two for that matter, unless you guys brought it up," Rachel said. "Because as excited as we are for the both of you, it only adds more pressure."

"...It does," I said softly. I felt my brow furrow. I think the fact that we felt like we had to tell everyone now was part of the issue. That because one or two people knew, that everyone had to know. I wanted so badly to be open about my relationship with Santana, but I knew Santana was scared. I was scared for her.

"Thank you, Rachel," I said quietly. I knew if Quinn found out second hand, it wouldn't have turned out right. Tina might have brought up the fact that Santana kissed her after trying to kiss Quinn, and that would have been miserable. Santana would have been really upset by that.

"Of course," Rachel shrugged. "Can I make a suggestion?"

"Er," I paused.

"You don't have to agree with me, I just think that maybe if you don't want Quinn to know yet... you should spend more time with her instead of hiding away all the time. She was downstairs talking about you two while you were in your room together."

"Oh... I didn't realize-"

"It's okay, it's just... Quinn can be a really curious person, and she's just suspicious. It might be harder to keep it a secret from her, even if it's easier to just be alone together."

"That makes a little sense," I nodded. "Is that why you asked us to join you for movies?"

"Yes," Rachel laughed. "Can I ask you something else?"

"Sure," I nodded.

"I wanted to know about your love story," Rachel beamed brightly. Again, she flashed her teeth at me, and it was like she lit all up like a Christmas tree.

"L-lo...lah... story?" I gulped.

"It's, you know, the story of how you two fell for each other," Rachel said. "How did it happen?"

"...Uh, well," I blushed. "Do you mean like, the first time we kissed? Or when I knew I _wanted_ to kiss her?"

"Both," Rachel said gleefully. I grinned at how excited she was. It made me excited. I fidgeted and twisted to face her more. I told her how that first time at the dance studio, that Santana intentionally bumped into me. And I couldn't stop staring at her ever since. She oo'd and awe'd and made me feel like I was turning crimson. I explained that I didn't know what that meant, the wonder and curiosity I had about Santana, but that the feelings sort of built up over little things. Like, when Santana and I rolled around and tested all the mattresses and how she let me link my pinkie with hers. And cuddling on the couch while watching TV or when we made pancakes. All those tiny things led up to this awkward, but also somehow comfortable and perfect moment when Santana let me dance with her that night in the dance studio and she leaned in to kiss me.

"Oh, Santana was so bold," Rachel grinned, smacking my leg gently.

"...She was," I nodded. "I'm so happy she did. I had wanted so badly to kiss her, too, but I started to over think it."

"Now I'm really glad you stole my blueberries to make pancakes," Rachel laughed. "I feel like I contributed in a small way."

We laughed for a bit and she continued to ask me questions. I told her about the surprise date Santana took me on to the aquarium. She kept making excited little noises and even pretended to swoon when I got to the part about kissing Santana in the dark next to the shark tank.

"Oh, I just want to hug Santana right now," Rachel said. "I'll just hug you twice. I'm going to hug you, okay?"

My eyes widened in surprise and I nodded as she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me into a tight hug. What a strange way to start a hug, but I think maybe she said that because we weren't super close friends. I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a light hug back. She gave me a second squeeze and then drew back.

"I can't believe we were, well, I was, so oblivious to how in love you two are," Rachel laughed. My smile faded and I froze. Rachel's laughter faded a little and she looked up at me as her mouth dropped a little to form a little 'o' shape.

"Oh, uh," Rachel sat back a little more. "I didn't mean to assume...I mean... I just thought... Brittany, do you...?"

"I, uh," I hesitated, drawing in a sharp breath. "I... don't know..."

"Are you scared?" Rachel tilted her head to the side.

"A little," I nodded.

"You don't need to be," Rachel said, squeezing my hand reassuringly. "I think it's quite obvious that Santana loves you too."

I gulped, but I bent my head forward in a jerky, slow nod. It wasn't that I doubted that might be the case. It was just... I'd never been in love before. And if Santana loved me back... it made my chest feel tight and I suddenly felt like it was difficult to take in air. Movies always made love out to be this magical wonderful thing. They didn't always tell you how scary it could be. My brow furrowed as I looked down at the ground. Rachel had been in love with _her_ boyfriend... What if...

"Brittany?" Rachel said quietly. "I just thought... I was being dumb. I'm sorry for scaring you. Of course you two are still sorting out your feelings. Mike said you two only just decided you were dating."

"We did," I smiled weakly. It was easier to try and breathe when she spoke, because I could focus on her voice instead of the one in my head. "I'm excited, but... I'm kind of scared too. I've never dated anyone before."

"Dating is confusing," Rachel nodded. "Every person has different rules of how they work. I mean, with me and Finn, it was totally different than with Puck or-"

"Puck?" I gapped.

"Oh," Rachel said. "Yeah, that was a long time ago. It wasn't a really long relationship. Puck was kind of notorious for trying to date all the pretty girls at school, like Quinn and Santana-"

"He dated Quinn, too?"

"Er... that's complicated," Rachel grit her teeth. "That's not the point I was trying to make, Brittany. It's just every relationship is different. And you and Santana will figure out the right time for everything."

"I don't think Santana and I have a normal situation," I laughed lightly. "But I wouldn't change it for anything."

"That's wonderful," Rachel said. "I have the perfect idea. Would you mind if I helped you set up a date?"

"Not like a double date, right? Because that was fun with Mike and Tina, but Santana kept getting embarrassed-"

"Oh? When did you go on a double date?" Rachel smiled. "No, wait, tell me that later. Not a double date, a real date. Here in Manhattan. What if you had breakfast at Tiffany's? Kurt and I did that-"

"Santana isn't really like you and Kurt," I murmured.

"That's true," she paused and nodded her head slowly. "But there are really some wonderful restaurants here in the city. And the parks."

"I think she would like that," I said. "Although that might be too... open."

"Right," Rachel frowned. "Alright, we'll figure out the details, but when would be a good day?"

"Maybe Friday? She has work, but we could do something earlier in the day or maybe I could convince her to take the day off. That way we wouldn't have to worry about class the next day."

"Friday sounds good," Rachel nodded. "Oh, this is so exciting. We'll figure out what you can wear and I'll persuade Quinn to go with me to Mercedes' or Kurt's place or something for the night so you two can have alone ti-"

There was a knock on the door.

"Hey," Santana poked her head in. "You guys are taking forever."

"Sorry, I got distracted," Rachel said. "I asked Brittany about some advice for an outfit and we just got derailed. Maybe I should just have you go shopping with me."

"That sounds like a plan," I nodded, more because it was a good excuse to be alone with Rachel to plan more of my date with Santana.

"Come on," Santana said and smiled at me as I approached her. She almost caught my hand, and I definitely would have let her, but then she drew it away as she turned to leave Rachel's room. I glanced back at Rachel and she gave me a sympathetic look. She must have noticed, either from the action or the expression on my face.

"What movie did you pick?" Rachel asked, pressing her hand against my back as she ushered me out of her room. Santana paused at the top of the stairs and looked back.

"We were going to go with Harry Potter," Santana shrugged. "But we realized we couldn't decide on one movie to watch."

"That's easy," I said. "Prisoner of Azkaban."

"Me too!" Santana agreed.

"No, Goblet of Fire," Rachel frowned.

"You're just saying that because Robert Pattinson is in that one," Santana wrinkled her nose.

"Who?" I said, furrowing my brow.

"The Twilight guy," Santana explained.

"Oh, he looks like a frankenstein," I shook my head.

"Kinda figures she would like him," Santana murmured. "What not with not-so-Frankenteen."

"What was that?" Rachel said as she squeezed past us.

"Nothing. Quinn said the Sorcerer's Stone," Santana sighed. "I think the last two were really good though."

"Oh, but that would be such a long watch," I frowned.

"That's why we picked a different movie," Santana laughed, looping her arm in mine as she pulled me down the rest of the stairs. I smiled and leaned into her a little.

"What's that?" I asked.

"The First Wives Club," Quinn said, tossing the DVD case at Santana as Rachel plopped down on the couch. Santana barely caught it with one hand.

"Oh, I love that movie," Rachel cheered excitedly.

"Good," Santana murmured. "Cause we chose it for her specifically."

"What's it about?" I laughed as I knelt down with her as she put the DVD into the player.

"A trio of women that plot kill their ex-husbands," Santana grinned.

"They do not, Santana," Rachel rolled her eyes. "They try to steal their money-"

"Don't tell her," Santana snapped. "She hasn't seen it before." Santana finished putting the movie in and helped me up before tugging me back to the couch. I think it was out of habit that I snuggled up closely to her, but Rachel laughed and leaned into me when Quinn gave us a weird look. It just kind of looked like a girly dog-pile instead.

"None of you turned off the lights," Quinn grumbled as she got up out of the recliner and switched the lights off before pointing the remote at the television. Since it was darker now, I nuzzled my cheek against Santana's shoulder, and she lifted her hand to playfully tickle over mine. If Rachel noticed, she didn't say anything. Instead, she twisted and pulled out the blanket that draped over the couch and tossed it over the three of us.

"What were you two really talking about?" Santana whispered softly in my ear as she moved her hand around to hold mine beneath the blanket.

"Nothing, just clothes and stuff," I whispered back, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as I looked up at her.

"Watch the movie," Rachel whispered, nudging me with her elbow. I laughed and nodded.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: There will be a delay between this chapter and the next. I know what I want to write, but I have to make sure it checks out with what happens in the next episode of glee on tuesday... so. Sorry. Hopefully that will just be a quick, "Oops, change this detail to that," and I can upload it shortly after, but... I also still have finals and stuff. **

**30 chapters later, I finally get around to telling you were Quinn and Kurt work. Whoops. **

**Parachute by Ingrid Michaelson - .com/watch?v=gza-E4k_1OE**


	31. Cabbages and Kings

I leaned back in the rolling chair in the office of the dance studio. Even though I worked on Tuesdays, I only really taught for a few hours. I spent the rest of the time I was there keeping an eye on the studio while students practiced on their own. It was nice to see my regulars again, after last week's odd schedule during break.

I was in the office because I was waiting for Madison to show up. I hadn't practiced any routines with her since last semester. We usually met up at one of the practice rooms at the Juilliard building, but because I was working, she suggested she just stop by. I was a little worried, because more often than not, she would cancel on me at the last minute. I twirled in my chair, wondering if that would be the case today.

It had been a long day, and I spent most of it missing Santana. I had class before her this morning, and she was still asleep when I had to get up and sneak out of her room. I didn't mind not waking her, because she looked so peaceful and happy curled up next to me, but I kind of regretted it now. She had called me right after my last class to tell me she couldn't pick me up for lunch, because Quinn asked her to bring her lunch Kurt was MIA or something, and they had received a new shipment of books that kept her from her lunch break.

It wasn't like Santana ever made plans to take me to lunch, but I guess I had grown accustomed to her surprising me. I reached forward to grab my phone to text her, but when I looked down, I saw that I had a messages waiting for me.

_I'm addicted, it's a crisis. My friends think I've gone crazy, my judgement's getting kinda hazy. My steeze is gonna be affected if I keep it up like a lovesick crackhead. What you've got, girl, is hard to find. I think about it all the time. I'm all strung out, my heart is fried. I just can't get you off my mind~ xoxo - Santana_

I held back a laugh as I read the next message.

_I mean, uh, I miss you. - Santana_

There were two more messages. I felt bad that I couldn't have my phone on me during my dance lessons.

_Seriously though. I don't care what people say, the rush is worth the price I pay, I get so high when you're with me, but crash and crave you when you leaaaaaaave-! - Santana _

I could hardly contain my laughter and I nearly fell out of my chair. I hoped none of my students could hear me over the music.

_Sorry, sorry. You're in class. I hope your thing with your friend is fun. No wait, I don't. I hope it sucks, and you come home soon. xoxo - Santana_

I tapped a response quickly.

_Hey, so I've got a question... Do you want to have a slumber party in my basement? ;)_

I grinned and snapped my crappy cell phone shut and set it on the desk. I gave myself another twirl in the chair instead of focusing on the paperwork I should have been doing at the desk while I waited for a response.

"Are you sure you're not busy right now?"

I snapped up and saw Madison standing in front of me. She had a grin on her face and had her hands on her hips. Madison was wearing her dance outfit, but it was so sparkly and shimmered in the light that I couldn't help but think of the first time I saw Rachel.

"Hey!" I said cheerfully, jumping up from the chair. I hoped she hadn't been there for that long, because I'd been really focused on reading texts and twirling around in the chair. I must have looked insane. "I was just waiting for you."

"Oh yeah," Madison shrugged. "Sorry, am I late?"

"Not really," I said, swiping my phone off the desk when it started to buzz.

_OMG. YES. Please come home. Now. - Santana_

A laugh forced its way out in one sharp 'ha' before my hand slapped over my mouth. I was glad Santana understood what I'd meant by that, but it was weird texting her in front of Madison. I sent a quick reply back saying I couldn't and that Madison was here now.

"What's funny?" Madison asked as I ushered her out of the office and towards the back room. I was surprised I had missed seeing some of my students off, because the room was empty. The music was still playing.

"Nothing, my g-" I caught myself. "My roommate wants me to come home."

"Well, too bad," Madison said, spinning around to face me. "Because we've got work to do."

"Alright, well," I said, moving to my iPod and setting my phone next to it. "Show me what you've got so far."

Madison froze and I glanced up at her as I scrolled through songs. I found the song our professor sent us for class, and then changed the settings so that it would play on repeat.

"You don't wanna go first?" Madison asked.

"No, you said you needed help," I said and smiled, my brow furrowing for a second. "Come on, go."

Madison nodded, and when the music started to play, she shuffled to the center of the room and let out a loud sigh. She looked like she was counting in her head to the beat, because her head bobbed up and down a little. I think she was trying to catch up in her head with her choreography because she delayed herself. After a few seconds, she side stepped and moved into her dance, but it was jerky and unsteady. I paused the song.

"Start over, from the beginning," I said. She nodded and moved to the center of the room again. I counted for her, and then hit play. It was better when she started up a second time, but it was hard to focus on her movements with all the shimmering of her outfit. She stopped halfway through the song and smiled sheepishly at me.

"That's all I have so far," she said with a shrug. I nodded slowly. Overall, it felt sloppy, like she had thrown things together last minute, but I bit my lower lip to keep from saying that. We'd only just gotten the assignment yesterday, so it made sense that she didn't have much yet.

"Let's see what you got," Madison huffed as she placed her hands on her hips.

I smiled and gave her a slight nod as I restarted the song. The first time I'd heard it, I knew instantly from the beat and the tempo that I would have fun with it. When the music started, I feigned the first few movements. It was fun to do that, because it reminded me of a broken toy. Unlike Madison, my movements were intentionally jerky until the words of the song started up. Then, I switched into more fluid movements, but in a way that was like ink in water. Unpredictable, or at least, my intention was to match the song in showing uncertainty. Every now and then, I would tear my leg or arm or head back and move in a completely different direction.

I stopped midway through like Madison had, mostly because I hadn't really finished my choreography either, but also because my phone was buzzing next to the iPod. I grinned as I twirled around to half walk, half jog to the back of the room.

_If I bribe you with dinner, will you please come home before I leave for work? :( - Santana_

"That was awesome, Brittany," Madison said, walking towards me, and I twisted around to lean against the sound equipment. "Where does that come from?"

"Hm?" I said, glancing quickly up from my phone as I texted Santana back.

_Unlike you, I'm not as easily motivated by food, babe. You'll have to do better than that._

"I don't know," I shrugged. It was hard to say, because I knew some days I danced better than others. And the song itself was actually a little scary, but instead of letting it get in my head, I embraced the feelings of uncertainty that I had and I ran with it. "Maybe you just need to find the right inspiration."

* * *

><p>"I'm home!" I shouted cheerfully as I opened the door and waved my hand in the air dramatically. I looked out across the living room where Quinn sat in her recliner nestled under a pile of books while Rachel froze where she was, either getting up or sitting down on the couch, with a mug in her hands.<p>

"We are too," Quinn said, not looking up from her book. "But I suppose you really just shouted that for Santana."

I felt my expression fall as my hand did the same. Aside from being disappointed that Santana wasn't home, I was a little disheartened by Quinn's flat tone of voice. Rachel and I got along fine, but even after a month with living at the apartment, Quinn and I rarely spoke unless in the company of others.

"She already left for work," Rachel said as she walked around the coffee table.

"Really?" I said, pouting immediately.

"Yeah, just a few minutes ago," Rachel said, moving into the kitchen. "I'm surprised you didn't run into her on the way up."

"She made dinner," Quinn said. "She left a plate out for you."

"It looks amazing, but unfortunately I couldn't try any," Rachel said, leaning against the counter. "She did make me what I can only assume is some sort of Spanish rice though."

"Sounds yummy," I said as I walked into the kitchen. Rachel gently caught my arm and arched her brow at me.

"Santana was really funny waiting around for you, you know," Rachel whispered as a small smile formed on her lips. "It made me rethink some of our plans for your date-"

"Shh, Rachel!" I hissed and glanced back into the living room. Rachel's eyes widened and she held her tongue. She grabbed the plate from the counter and nodded her head in the general direction of her room.

"I want you to look at this outfit I got today," Rachel said. "I haven't taken the tags off yet, because it needs your seal of approval first."

"You just need to tell her to stop buying things with polka dots on them," Quinn said as we walked past her.

"That's a valid point," I said flatly. "Rachel, you're banned from headbands and polka dots."

"No!" Rachel cried as she spun on the stairs to look down at me with a horrified expression.

"...you can pick one or the other," I said. "Either way, the headband you have _with _the polka dots on them has to go."

Rachel let out another disgruntled cry as she turned to storm up the stairs and I could hear Quinn laughing downstairs. Usually her laughs were soft, in a way that seemed like she was trying not to express an opinion or judgement but just couldn't help it. But this laugh was louder and rang out for a few short seconds before she settled down. I grinned and took the rest of the steps in twos. Maybe Quinn was warming up to me after all.

Rachel let me sit at her desk so I could eat while she flopped down onto her bed. As it turned out, she had been lying about buying clothes, but it had been a good excuse to get away from Quinn. She started telling me about how Santana had been really fidgety while I was gone, and that on Tuesdays Santana was usually a little more abrasive—that any time I worked and Santana was free she was usually like that.

"To be honest, after you said that Santana isn't like Kurt and I, I realized I don't know what kind of date you should take her on," Rachel frowned.

"I' shou' be roman'ic," I said with a mouthful of rice.

"...what?" Rachel laughed.

"Romantic," I gulped. "With like... candles. A million candles."

"Where would you do that?" Rachel asked.

"Her room?" I said. "Or mine."

"Just because you guys share the fire escape doesn't mean you should try to set our apartment on fire," Rachel shook her head and laughed. I kinda choked a little, mostly because Rachel probably didn't know exactly how much we used the fire escape as it was.

"Can I offer a suggestion without you taking it the wrong way?" Rachel said, scooting closer to the end of her bed towards the desk. I stopped shoveling food in my mouth and licked my lips as I sat up and away from the plate.

"Yeah, I guess," I nodded.

"I don't think romance is the right approach," Rachel said flatly. "What I mean is... I don't think you need to _try_ to be romantic, Brittany. I think what Santana likes about you isn't you charming her pants off-"

"-I don't really need charm to do that," I laughed.

"That was a figure of speech," Rachel blushed.

"I don't even think it is," I said. "I think it's a very literal statem-"

I paused because there was a buzzing sound coming from my pocket as my phone vibrated against my hip. I quickly pulled it out and flicked it open. There was a message from Santana.

_Are you home yet? You should be home by now. Are you okay? You didn't text me. - Santana_

"One sec," I said to Rachel as I tapped on my keypad.

_Sorry! I just got home. I was talking to Rachel. Thank you for the food, it's SO good._

"Is that Santana?" Rachel said as she scooted to the edge of the bed.

"Yes," I said, instinctively drawing my phone back towards my chest.

"What did she say?" Rachel grinned.

"N-nothing, just asked if I got home okay," I said. My phone vibrated in my palm.

"Oh, let me see!" She hopped off the bed and scrambled towards me.

"Stop, Rachel," I laughed as I twisted around, shoving my elbow at her to keep her back as I struggled to read the text.

_Good. I was worried for a second there. And you're very welcome, bb. ;) I wish I would have caught you before I left. - Santana_

"Aw, she called you _baby_," Rachel cooed. I managed to shrug her off, but not before she snatched my phone out of my hand.

"Hey! Give it back!" I made a grab for my phone, but she turned and hopped onto her bed. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"'You're very welcome, baby,'" Rachel read out loud.

"No, bb is for Britt-Britt," I said, looking down at the ground as I flushed. "She likes to call me that."

"No... sweetie, bb is short hand texting for 'baby,'" Rachel laughed.

I knew Santana _called_ me baby sometimes, or babe. She liked that one. But I didn't know why I got so embarrassed for not realizing two simple letters meant something completely different than what I thought they meant. She'd been sending that to me in texts for a while.

"Aw, she freaked out because you didn't text her," Rachel said. I jumped from the chair and snatched my phone back.

"Stop it," I said. "Santana would be so mad if she knew anyone but me saw these."

"Sorry, sorry," Rachel said. "It's just so strange to see such a _tame_ Santana. Let's get back on track. The date."

"...Santana should feel special. I want to treat this seriously," I said as I sat back down in the chair.

"And I'm sure she would really enjoy that, Brittany," Rachel nodded. "But anything I can think of... is stuff like... fancy restaurants or ballroom dancing. All very swoon-worthy, but... very much public."

"Oh," I frowned.

"It also doesn't have that spark of ingenuity you seem to evoke," Rachel said. "It needs a Brittany-touch."

"Like the zoo? That just seems like I'm repeating the Aquarium thing," I shook my head. "It's frustrating, 'cause there are lots of things I want to do, but I don't really have the money to take Santana on a really fancy, romantic date anyway. Like ballroom dancing. That would be awesome."

"You don't have to spend a lot of money to make her feel like she's important," Rachel said. "Something like the marshmallow fight we had. That was fun and spontaneous and I really think that's what excites her so much about you. She was lazing around today, moping because you weren't around. She kept finding marshmallows under the coffee table or couch and was flicking them at Quinn to entertain herself."

"I hope we find all of those," I laughed. "I caught Lord Tubbington eating one, and I don't think vegan food is good for cats."

Rachel gave me a puzzled look and I took another bite of my food.

"I'm putting too much pressure on myself to make this perfect," I said, tossing my fork down on the plate. "I'll do something simple, like dinner or something. Except... It'd probably be macaroni and cheese, because that's the only thing I know how to make. Or like. Brownies. As long as they're from a box."

"Mac n' cheese and brownies?" Rachel frowned. "That's not a really healthy meal..."

"Maybe I could just order pizza and pretend I made it," I shook my head. "Would that be better?"

"No, no, Brittany, the brownies thing is cute," Rachel laughed. "Do what you want. Just pick a place and we'll set it up."

"...I know Santana is scared of heights, but I have an idea," I grinned.

"Santana is scared of heights?" Rachel gaped. "And she made fun of me for being scared of going out on the fire escape...!"

After talking with Rachel and finalizing some plans for my date on Friday, I got ready for bed and snuck into Santana's room. Rachel agreed to take Quinn to Mercedes' apartment for movies so that we could have the apartment to ourselves. I was surprised she acknowledged not just the cute aspects of our relationship, but also the intimate ones.

I picked up Jeremy and fluffed him lightly as I turned and let myself fall into Santana's bed. I held him up and smiled as he grinned his dopey grin at me.

"I'm really glad to have people to talk to about Santana," I said to him. "Not that you haven't been an awesome listener or anything." I hugged him tightly to my chest and rolled to my side, staring out at Santana's room. I closed my eyes and breathed in slowly. If I tried really hard, I could almost imagine she was laying next to me. Her pillow smelled like her. Even Jeremy had started to smell like her.

"Rachel is super nice," I sighed. "But I really wish I knew Quinn more. Like, at breakfast this morning, we just sat there in silence. It's better when Rachel and Santana are around, but... I think she doesn't like me."

I opened my eyes slowly. I was used to people not liking me, but I was never sure why. I knew people thought I was dumb. Maybe I wasn't as smart as Quinn, but she didn't seem like the type of person to dismiss anyone for their intelligence.

"Maybe I could ask her what books she likes," I said softly. "She's always reading them. I know I can't be everyone's friend, but..."

It would really help to be Quinn's friend now that I was dating Santana. Especially because Santana was so scared of talking to her. If Santana couldn't find the courage to talk to Quinn, maybe we could do it together.

I didn't want to fall asleep just yet. Santana would be home soon, and I hadn't seen her all day. Plus, I was worried about our date on Friday, and I was worried about Quinn. I was sure that if I fell asleep, I would have one of those bad dreams. That made me more anxious, so I squeezed Jeremy tighter. I shut my eyes tightly and thought of Santana. Her smile. Even her scowl, really, because it was cute too.

* * *

><p>"Britt." The voice was soft and quiet. The sound wafted over me like a soothing melody and I wanted to open my eyes, but they felt so heavy. I hummed a response that was too tired to mean anything specific.<p>

"Britt. Baby, you gotta get up," Santana said quietly. I felt her hand brush my cheek and she let out a small laugh. Her breath exhaled gently and warmly on my face, so I knew she was close as I leaned forward. My nose bumped hers and she nuzzled it.

"You're laying on the covers, babe," Santana cooed. Using all the strength I could muster, I slowly opened my eyes. She was smiling brightly at me in the way that made her eyes kind of squint and her nose wrinkled, but her lips weren't quite parted. I blinked lazily and smiled.

"Santana..." I murmured, moving forward just enough to kiss her. I held there and my eyes fell closed again. She let out a surprised, but happy, murmur and I drew back so I could listen.

"Miss me?" Santana asked. I nodded, laying back and slowly wiggling as she tried to pull the covers from beneath me. When the blankets were free, she crawled into bed next to me before throwing them back over us.

"I guess we're not having a slumber party tonight," Santana said as she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close from behind.

"Huh?"

"Never mind," she whispered and kissed my cheek. I sniffed and twisted a little in her arms.

"I missed you," I murmured. "Thank you for dinner."

"Of course," Santana said. "I didn't want my girlfriend to starve."

"I woulda made something," I sighed.

"I'm sure," Santana nodded. "You don't have to stay up to talk. Go to sleep."

"No, I wanna."

"Okay," Santana said, letting her arms loosen around me as I turned to face her. She must have been home for a little while, because she wasn't wearing any makeup and her hair was down. I inhaled softly, breathing her in as she pulled me closer. I don't know how I thought I could imagine she was there before. The real thing was so much better.

My fingers trailed up over her arm. She didn't say anything as I let them drag over her shoulder and dip down along her collarbone. Was it because I hadn't seen her all day that every little thing about her made her look enchanting? Or was it just that she got prettier as the days went by and I don't normally notice? Or maybe I'd just forgotten because my imagination paled in comparison to her beauty. I forgot for a second that I wanted to talk. For a moment, all I wanted to do was stare at her.

"Sorry we didn't spend time together today," Santana whispered. I looked up at her eyes and became transfixed in her gaze.

"It's fine," I said. The way she looked at me made me almost forget what she had said to begin with. I blinked. "How...how was your day?"

"It was alright," Santana laughed, leaning forward to kiss my nose. Maybe I was sleepier than I thought, but her laugh made me feel a little more awake.

"Quinn is a little worried about Kurt calling out so much," Santana said softly as she brushed my hair back. "He's normally very put together, so she thinks something must be wrong. Like maybe his dad is in the hospital again or something."

"Really?" I shifted up a little. "I hope not, that's terrifying."

"Yeah," Santana nodded. "I suggested maybe Kurt finally found a boyfriend. Or a roommate. Or... both."

She winked at me and wrinkled her nose. I let out a small laugh and wiggled my nose to hers.

"Next time you go to see Quinn, can I come?" I asked softly, looking down at her lips as I spoke. Her mouth spread into a weak smile and I looked back up to see her brow crease.

"Yeah, of course," Santana said. "But it's kind of boring at the bookstore. It's totally Quinn's scene, but I don't think it would suit you. I can hardly stand it."

"Santana," I murmured. "Does Quinn not like me?"

"What? No," Santana shook her head quickly and then kissed me gently. "Babe, Quinn doesn't like anybody. Not when she first meets them. She's a judgmental bitch, like me. She's just... warming up to you."

"You're not a bitch." I murmured.

"Not around you," Santana smiled.

"I just never have things to talk with Quinn about," I sighed. "She's so smart and I'm just-"

"Just as smart," Santana said, squeezing me tightly in her arms and kissing me again. I couldn't help the weak smile that spread on my lips. "I wouldn't date someone I didn't think was absolutely brilliant."

"I'm not-"

"You are," she said between kisses. Every time I protested, she would kiss me again, and eventually I fell silent.

"Quinn cares, she's just bad at showing it," Santana said reassuringly.

"I just need to figure out something to talk about with her, maybe," I nodded. "I was gonna ask her what her favorite book is. It's probably something I've never read."

"It's Through the Looking Glass," Santana said. "Quinn loves it. When they remodeled the bookstore, she helped come up with the new name."

"Really?" I brightened. I actually knew that one. "That's a strange book for her to like."

"Stories about a girl escaping the harsh realities of her own life to fall into a world of wonder? With tea parties and chess and queens and succession?" Santana shook her head. "It's almost the obvious choice."

"But it's so silly," I laughed. "Unbirthday parties, the March Hare and the Cheshire cat? Even the Jabberwocky has a funny name."

"All sorts of whimsy that maybe Quinn is fond of," Santana said, tapping my nose with her finger. "Or envious of. Maybe that's why she doesn't talk to you."

"Huh?"

"She's still trying to figure you out," Santana said.

I hummed softly and snuggled into Santana. She placed a kiss on my forehead, lingering a second and then pulled away to look down at me.

"How was your dance thing with your friend?" Santana asked quietly.

"Good," I nodded. "Madison's routine was really bad, but I think we managed to fix it."

"Did you make progress on yours?"

"A little, but we spent most of our time focusing on hers," I shrugged. "I'll work on mine tomorrow."

"You'll get it done," Santana nodded. "I've seen the way you move."

"Oh?" I grinned. "You like?"

"Very, _very_, much," Santana said, smiling back as she arched her brow.

"You don't move half bad yourself," I whispered, leaning in to catch her lips. It was a soft, lazy kiss, but she made it stronger by pressing into me. I let a small huff of air out through my nose as she licked my lips and I grinned again as she pressed me onto my back.

"I thought we were talking," I murmured. She sat up a little and looked down at me, her brow furrowed slightly.

"I didn't mean to-"

"I was kidding," I grinned and lifted my arm to rest above my head. "But...I wanted to ask you something."

"Mm?" Santana smiled.

"I know we're not telling Quinn and Rachel yet," I said carefully. "And that you need time to figure things out, but... since we've already kind of told Mike and Tina, would it be okay... for me to tell my friends?"

Santana paused, staring down at me as her eyes flicked back and forth. She twisted off of me and sat up, bringing her knees towards her chest.

"...what friends?" Santana asked quietly. "Which ones?"

"Well, really just Madison," I said, scooting up. "We haven't hung out a lot lately, but today was fun, and I've missed hanging out with her."

"I don't... I don't know," Santana said, narrowing her eyes.

"Why not?" I frowned. "It's just Madison."

"Well, it's just... Brittany. Those girls at your school... they're kind of... awful."

"Madison isn't like that," I said, a little louder than I intended to.

"...you thought Jenna was a nice person," Santana sighed. I froze as I stared over at her and watched as her eyes widened and her mouth hung open for a second. I felt my lips purse and my brow furrowed, and suddenly I was scrambling out from under the covers.

"Fine," I said as I kicked my legs over the mattress and grabbed at Jeremy, closing a tight fist around his fur.

"Brittany, that came out wrong." She caught my arm as I moved to stand. "Where are you going?"

"My room?" I tugged my arm but her hold firm. She moved and suddenly she had both arms wrapped around me in a tight hug.

"Don't go-"

"You don't think I can make decent friends," I retorted. Her hold was the only thing keeping me upright. As much as I had wanted to get away, I don't think I could have. My eyes started to sting and water a little as I held back tears.

"Please, I didn't mean it like that," Santana said softly and gave me a gentle squeeze. "If I thought that, how would we be anything?"

I stood there silently for a moment. My chest felt tight in the bad sort of way, not the way it felt when Santana kissed me for too long. I felt heavy and hot, like I was sinking. But Santana, with her arms wrapped around me, kept me from being consumed by whatever was trying to swallow me up.

"I'm sorry," Santana murmured. "That was dumb of me to say. I didn't mean that."

"...it's okay," I muttered, sinking back into Santana's hug.

"It's not okay, that was a big deal," Santana said, loosening her grip on me. "It's just... I want you to be able to tell people, Brittany. I do." Santana hesitated.

I twisted around to face her. She took Jeremy and placed him on the bed before grabbing both of my hands in hers. She looked at me intensely, and yet it was sincere. Still, I couldn't quite meet her eyes.

"But... Brittany, I don't even know your friend," Santana said softly. "Can I at least meet her first?"

"...I suppose... we could do that..."

"I'm really sorry," Santana said again. "Please stay."

"I'm not leaving," I sighed. My body fell forward a little to rest my forehead against hers. She slipped one of her hands out of mine and moved it to gently stroke my cheek. I still felt hot. Santana wasn't trying to be mean, I knew that. She looked up at me with big, brown eyes and a few times I saw her open her mouth a little to speak, but she didn't say anything. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I wasn't upset at Santana, just more of _what_ she had said. I was upset because of what it implied.

"Brittany," Santana whispered. I opened my eyes to look down at hers again.

"I'm not mad," I said softly. "Just a little... I don't know."

"Yeah," Santana nodded. She placed both her hands on my waist and shuffled back, pulling me towards her and back onto the bed. She silently guided me back under the covers. I laid still for a moment before snuggling closely to her, nuzzling my nose against her neck. I didn't want her to think I was still upset. I spent the whole day missing Santana, and it was silly to let a misunderstanding ruin the only opportunity I had today to be with her.

"Thank you," Santana said weakly.

"For what?" I asked, looking up at her.

"For staying," Santana muttered. She still looked anxious. I smiled a small smile and pressed my lips to hers.

"I would have just come back," I laughed softly. "I missed you so much today."

"Me too," Santana sighed. "Ugh, it was torture."

"We're terrible," I giggled.

"What?"

"We can't get through a day _or_ a night without each other," I murmured, wrinkling my nose as I pressed another kiss to her lips.

"I'm okay with that," Santana said, grinning. She tickled her fingers up my side as I let out a soft, quiet sigh against her lips, the remaining tension in my body slipping away with her touch. "As long as I get to spend time with you, I'm happy."

"Me too," I agreed, my words muffled as she kissed me back.

* * *

><p>"You're going to be late for work, Santana," I laughed. She had her hands wrapped around my waist from behind and the side of her face was pressed against my back. She was a little out of breath from trying to dance with me, but I could tell from the mirrors that she was also trying not to laugh.<p>

"I don't care," Santana said. "This is more fun."

Santana had done her best to make up for yesterday. I only had an hour between classes for lunch, but she surprised me with food. She took me across the street to Damrosch Park and we sat and ate while looking up at the empty amphitheater. I liked simple things like that with Santana. She even let me sneak a few kisses when we thought no one was looking. Afterwards, she walked me back to class and promised to text me while I was at work. Instead, she showed up with even more food and made me take a break when I had decided to stay late to work on my repertory homework.

"Just because it's more fun doesn't mean you can skip work all the time," I laughed. "Speaking of work, did you get Friday off?"

"Yes," Santana said, kissing my cheek. "I would have anyway, even if it wasn't for this mystery date you're planning."

"Yeah?" I asked as I twisted around and grabbed her hands. I swung them back and forth as I took a step back.

"Definitely," Santana said. "We've only been back on our normal schedule for three days, and it's already miserable."

"You don't work tomorrow, though," I laughed.

"That's because Thursdays are awful," Santana said, furrowing her brow. "Do you know how many idiotic college kids come to the bar on Thursdays?"

"You're a college student," I murmured.

"Exactly why I don't work those days." Santana winked. "So can we have a pre-date date tomorrow?"

"We'll see," I said, pulling her closer again. "Maybe I'll just surprise you and pick you up after class for a change."

"It's not a surprise if you tell me," Santana laughed.

"But you'll be just as excited," I grinned.

"Then can you tell me what we're doing on Friday? I promise to still act surprised," Santana murmured as she leaned forward to rest her forehead against mine.

"Mm-mm," I shook my head lightly.

"Meanie," Santana frowned.

"Would a mean person do this?" I whispered before kissing her softly. I pulled away and brought my hands down to her sides and pulled her closer. "Or this?" I pecked her again on the lips, over and over as I tickled my hands over her stomach until she was laughing.

"N-no," she stammered and pulled away slightly. "But a mean girlfriend would force me to go to work against my will."

"You really do need to go," I mumbled as I moved to kiss her again.

"I really don't want to," Santana sighed against my lips.

"That's too bad," I said softly. "Because your mean girlfriend knows that you don't have class tomorrow morning, and we get an extra hour to snuggle."

"So?"

"Maybe if we use our time wisely... we could do more than snuggle when you get home," I smiled.

"I take it back," Santana said brightly as she stepped away from me. "You're an amazing girlfriend."

"I just like to think ahead," I winked. Santana moved to the other side of the room and grabbed her purse, shuffling back quickly to peck me on the lips.

"I'll see you at home. Try not to fall asleep," Santana smiled. "I felt so bad waking you last night."

"I'll stay up. I promise," I grinned and waved lightly as she stumbled backward towards the hallway that led to the exit.

"See you then," Santana winked.

"...Bye," I said softly as she pushed the door open. She lingered a second and I smiled at her until she spun around and disappeared. My smile faded and I stared longingly at the door. Part of me wanted her to come back, but mostly because our goodbyes sounded weird lately. There was always a bit of hesitation or pause afterwards, and I knew in my gut why, but I didn't have the courage to let myself think about it.

I kicked the ground and the rubber of my soles squeaked loudly against the smooth wood floorboards. I smiled weakly, because I never got anything accomplished while Santana was around. A loud breath of air escaped my lips before I moved across the floor in a slow twirl.

Santana was waiting. Not physically, but it was like the kind of waiting you do when testing the temperature of a pool with your feet before jumping in. Except she was waiting for _me_. Like when I was afraid to kiss her and everything else.

I skidded to a stop in front of my iPod and lifted my hand slowly to pick it up. I thumbed the wheel to adjust the volume before restarting the song. It was loud, but I needed to drown out my thoughts.

* * *

><p>It was late when I finally left the dance studio. Santana texted me the whole time, making sure I was okay on the subway and that I got home safe.<p>

_Shit, Tina keeps trying to steal my phone. If you get weird messages from me, ignore them. - Santana_

I smiled, because the one immediately after was definitely not Santana.

_Baby cutie honey! ;-) i cant wait 2 c u wen i get home! let me give u sweet lady kissesss xoxoxoxox - Santana_

I stopped just before our apartment building and started to type a text back when another one popped up.

_Oh god, I do not sound like that, do I? Please say I don't. I do miss you, but Tina is such a butt. P.S. - xoxo ;) - Santana _

I giggled and finished my reply.

_You don't, baby. Tina, stop taking Santana's phone. Our sexts are private._

I got a reply almost immediately after.

_OMG! - Santana_

I didn't know which one of them sent it, but I could only assume both of them were blushing. I was about to reply and ask them, huddled over my phone in a small fit of laughter, when a sudden shout made me jump. My phone clattered out of my hands onto the ground.

"Come on! Just open the door!"

I had walked up the sidewalk and found myself standing not four feet away from a tall stranger. He had his back to me, but I could tell from the way his shoulders rose and fell that he was breathing heavily. I froze, trying to figure out why he had been shouting.

_"Go away." _The voice came from the intercom box just outside of the doorway and I recognized it immediately as Rachel.

"Just let me up, Rachel. We need to talk."

_"Finn, please. Just... just go away."_

The stranger let out a grunt of frustration as he twisted around. His hair was disheveled and clothes wrinkled. He even had a little bit of scruff that I attributed more to days of neglect rather than an attempt to grow out. He looked surprised to see me standing there, but not nearly as surprised as I felt. I couldn't make myself move. The stranger, or rather Rachel's ex-boyfriend, moved away from the door and down the few steps that led up to it. When he got closer, my body jerked back, but then he bent down and picked up my phone.

"Hey..." he said in a gruff voice, but much quieter than before. If he hadn't looked so shabby, I might have calmed a bit when he smiled weakly at me as he handed me my phone. I could see a bit of charm beneath the worn down, tired looking expression that was plastered on his face, and maybe that was why Rachel had liked him. I couldn't find another reason just yet. I cautiously took my phone back.

When he stood up fully, I realized how tall he actually was and my trepidation grew again. He smelt like a mixture of sweat and alcohol, which was never a pleasant smell to begin with, but it only added to my nervousness. I took a cautious step back, but he seemed to take it as an invitation to step forward.

"Do you live here?" he asked. My eyes darted to the intercom, as if Rachel's voice might magically start up again and tell me what to do.

"I, uh, forgot my key," he said sheepishly, grinning a little wider. He lifted his hand and I took a cautious step back again, but then he turned and gestured lazily towards the door.

"Th-the door unlocks with a... a key code," I said quietly. I wasn't sure if he heard me, but I didn't want to repeat it.

"Oh, yeah," he said. His head bobbed up and down in a slow, uncoordinated nod. "Right. Uh...can you just let me in?"

I just wanted to get up to the apartment, but I realized suddenly that there wasn't really any way to get inside without letting him follow. Maybe it would be better to go somewhere else until he left. I could go to Lucky Charms or back to the dance studio. That would be better. I moved to the side, but he surprised me with a quick step to block my path. My eyes widened and I felt my heart skip a beat.

"Come on," he said, quieter still, and inched towards me. Each time he stepped towards me, I stepped back, but he took large steps that swiftly broke any sense of calm I had. It was so distracting that I didn't notice he had ushered me towards the door.

"I can't let you in." I shook my head and tried to put distance between us by stepping back again, but my back hit the door. He just stepped closer and placed his hand against the door just above my shoulder. _Oh god._ I tried to gulp, but my heart was throbbing all the way up my throat.

"It's not a big deal," he husked into my ear, and I felt his stale breath on my neck. I took in a sharp breath. My body tensed. How had I ended up in this position? I couldn't move, no matter how desperately I wanted to push him away and run, my arms wouldn't move and my legs felt like they were anchored to the ground.

"R-Rachel doesn't want to t-talk to you," I stammered. Hearing my own voice surprised me, because I thought it was lost like everything else. Finn jerked his head back and his brow furrowed.

"You know Rachel?" His voice cracked, but he held his arms steady where they were on either side of me. That was stupid, why did I say that? Now his face was scrunched up, like he was confused or just angry. I couldn't tell even though it was so close to mine. My head inclined in a weak nod.

"You're her roommate, then. Brittany, right? I'm her boyfriend," Finn said quickly.

"She said you b-broke up." It slipped out of my mouth before I could think of anything else.

"We didn't break up!" His voice boomed, and I wasn't sure if it was because he shouted or if it was his close proximity. His hand moved and balled into a fist as he slammed it against the door, inches from my face. The smallest squeak escaped my lips and my head jerked back, banging sharply against the door. I shouldn't have said anything. I should have just asked him to move. To back up. But now I couldn't find my voice either.

"It was a misunderstanding," Finn said loudly. "Just let me up!"

"I-I c-can't," I said. "It's not right. If Rachel w-wanted to talk to you-"

"You don't even know Rachel!"

I winced and lowered my gaze as his hand lifted to wave in the air, inches from my face.

"You don't know what she likes. What she wants. Who are you to say anything? I've been there for her - for years! You've known her for like... what? A month?" Finn shouted. "I just want to talk to her. Why is that so much to ask?"

He panted heavily and stared down at me. He slapped his hand against the door. "Well?"

"B-because!" I squeaked. "You... you broke her heart," I murmured softly.

"What?" Finn said harshly. "Is that what she said?"

He grabbed my wrists and another high pitched sound escaped my throat. He tugged me forward and then pushed back. I slammed back into the door and my whole body shook violently in his grasp.

"What do you know? Don't be such an idiot, this isn't your problem!" Finn shouted. I faltered and clenched my eyes closed tightly. The only thing keeping me standing was his grip on me. My chest was heaving up and down and I felt like I was going to vomit.

His voice echoed in my head. For a dizzying moment, I lost all my senses. There was no sidewalk, no apartment building, no door I was pinned up against. Instead, there was sand. Why was there sand? I saw it in front of me, never ending, and felt it against my face. Someone was shouting at me. I could see their sneakers. They had marker colored on them.

_"Don't be such an idiot! You're so stupid, Brittany!"_

The sand started to move. No, I had. I picked myself up off the ground and attempted to stand up, but then I was shoved back onto my butt. I saw a flash of a swingset and then the sky.

_"Leave her alone!"_

"S-santana?" I whimpered.

"Get the fuck away from her!" the voice shouted and my eyes slowly opened. Finn shot back and a body moved between us. I took in a deep breath as the figure's hand shoved at his chest again, pushing him further away. I blinked and I could feel my heart beating in my ears, but hardly anything else. The speaker's voice was muffled, like I had my head shoved underwater in the bathtub.

"I just want to talk to Rachel!" Finn shouted.

"So you scare the shit out of Brittany?" The speaker twisted away, and flashes of gold danced in front of me. I wavered, but then an arm shot out to catch me. As I straightened, my vision began to focus, and I saw Quinn where I expected to see Santana. She was glaring up at Finn angrily as she held me tightly to her body with one arm. He looked so big and scary in front of us, but she stood her ground. Her hand tightened against my waist and my body fell forward into her.

"Get the hell out of here," Quinn shouted. "You're drunk!" Her voice hit my ears like rushing water and suddenly sound flooded back. I was gasping for breath, but at least the intake of oxygen was letting my head clear.

"None of you get it! I need to talk to her," Finn said as he stumbled forward again.

"Then do it sober," Quinn growled. She twisted to me and her hand patted my cheek.

"Brittany, you need to get inside," she said softly. "Come on. Get up. Pull yourself together."

"I..." I murmured softly, but then she turned to look back at Finn.

"I need to talk to her now," Finn insisted. Quinn let go of me and shoved both hands forcefully into his chest.

"I said back off!" Quinn growled. "Rachel doesn't want to talk to you and she doesn't owe it to you either. Brittany. Get. Inside."

My body reacted on its own, and two seconds later I had the keycode punched in. The lock sprung open and the door clicked. I opened the it just enough to squeeze inside and Quinn scrambled back up the steps.

"Lemme in!" Finn shouted. He rushed up the stairs after her, and Quinn let out a shriek as she tried to slip inside while keeping the door as closed as possible. He caught her hand and tugged her back. I staggered backwards as they struggled for a moment. When Quinn let out another cry, I snapped to and shoved the door forward, knocking Finn back and off of Quinn. She rushed inside and we both tugged quickly on the door to shut it before Finn regained his footing. He angrily slammed his fists against the frame and kept shouting, but the sounds were muffled by the glass.

"Get the hell out of here, Finn!" Quinn shouted one last time as he tugged on the door handle. She stood there for a second, panting as she waited to make sure he couldn't open it. After a moment of silence between the two of us, she spun on her heel and grabbed my arm to drag me into the elevator.

"Are you okay?" Quinn said, turning to me once she slammed her palm against the number three. "Did he hit you?"

"N-no," I stammered. "H-he got you-"

"Whatever," Quinn shook her head. "Are you okay?" She stared at me and I tried to nod, but my head moved from side to side instead. I let out one sniffle, and I broke. I fell forward and she caught me as I felt tears stream down my cheeks.

"W-why... h-he-"

"It's okay," Quinn said softly. She let her hand stroke over the back of my head. It wasn't until she was helping me back out of the elevator that I realized how shaky I was. My legs felt like jello. It was the weirdest feeling. Even though I could be clumsy, I always had pretty solid footing. She dragged me down the hallway, and I felt sounds gurgle from my throat.

"Stop apologizing," Quinn said. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I kn-know, I just," I stammered. "I just... I probably smell bad."

"What?" Quinn said.

"I've been dancing all night."

"You... Brittany, it's fine." Quinn let out a weak laugh as she opened our door. We were met immediately by Rachel.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," Rachel said after one look at us. "He... I didn't mean to- Are you okay?"

"We're fine," Quinn nodded. "I am, anyway."

"He didn't do anything stupid, did he?" Rachel squeaked as she locked the door behind us.

"It's Finn," Quinn rolled her eyes as she pulled me to the couch. "He's always doing something stupid. Brittany, look at me."

I stared up at Quinn as she sat me down on the couch. Her hand ran up to brush the hair out of my face and she sat down on the coffee table to look me over. She picked up my hands and gently turned them over so that my palms were up. When I looked down, I saw that where Finn had gripped my wrists was already bruising a little.

"I'm gonna get some ice for that," Quinn said softly. "Sit tight, okay?"

"I...uh.. you," I tried to speak, but the words came out garbled. Quinn glanced at me as she moved into the kitchen and Rachel rushed over to her.

"She means you should put ice on it too," Rachel nodded, gesturing at Quinn's cheek. I was glad Rachel understood what I tried to say. "I am so sorry."

"This isn't your fault," Quinn said as she took out a tray of ice cubes from the freezer. "Don't you dare put the blame for this on yourself."

"I wasn't-"

"Rachel, I'm fine," Quinn said, gazing at her for a second. Rachel fell silent and nodded slowly.

"Now take this," she said as she handed Rachel the ice. "And wrap it in a towel."

Quinn opened the refrigerator and started to move around the kitchen. It wasn't until I heard the _click click click _of the stove top burner turning on that I realized she was making something. I looked over as Rachel sat down next to me and gently applied the ice to my wrist.

"Your favorite is cocoa, right?" Rachel asked. "Santana's always making it for you, so Quinn just assumed."

"Yes," I said quietly. I didn't know why they were all making such a fuss over me. I was fine, right? I guess maybe I was a little shaky. I don't know what would have happened if Quinn hadn't shown up. But wasn't it Rachel we should be worried about? I mean, it was her ex-boyfriend and all.

"Do you want me to call Santana?" Rachel asked softly. I quickly shook my head. No. Santana would get upset, and-

"I'm already on it," Quinn said from the kitchen. I snapped up and opened my mouth to protest, but words didn't come out. What would I say? No? Don't call my girlfriend and tell her that our friend's ex-boyfriend tried to force his way into our apartment and then assaulted us?

"Hey, Santana-" Quinn said from the kitchen. "No, shut up. Do I _ever_ call you at work? Of course something is up. Sit down."

"Shit," I exhaled softly. Rachel smiled weakly at me in what I guessed was an attempt to reassure me as she gently adjusted the ice between my wrists.

"She'd be more upset if you didn't tell her right away, you know," Rachel shrugged. "I'm just glad she didn't see the expression on your face when you walked in. She would have _murdered_ him."

"Aren't you upset?" I asked.

"Of course," Rachel said, but then smiled again at me. "There's no good excuse for cheating, Brittany. You can regret it, and sometimes forgive it, but you can't excuse it. Regardless, I'm more concerned about you and Quinn."

"-Yeah, he's still here," Quinn sighed. She was looking out the window in the kitchen. "Sulking, it looks like. He's stopped yelling."

"I'm going to call Kurt," Rachel said, handing me the towel of ice. "Stay there, okay?"

"Why Kurt?"

"Oh." Rachel froze after she stood up. "Kurt is Finn's step-brother. Even if he's drunk and being outrageous right now, I really would prefer him to have somewhere to stay the night instead of the street outside our apartment."

When Rachel picked up her phone and turned away to call Kurt, Quinn came back to me with a mug of cocoa. It had whipped cream on it and bits of chocolate flakes on top. I smiled, weakly because I was still a little shaken up, but it was hard not to. Quinn made real hot cocoa just like Santana did. Except, after a taste test, it didn't taste anything like Santana's cocoa. Santana made cocoa that was sort of orangish in color and tasted like cinnamon. Quinn's cocoa tasted like it had mint in it. It was different, but still really good.

"You didn't make yourself any?" I asked quietly.

"No, no," Quinn said and shook her head as she smiled. "I'm fine. Really."

"You should put ice on your face," I said, lifting the ice from my wrist and pressing it gently to her cheek. She smiled a little wider and took it from me.

"Thanks." She leaned back on the couch and then nudged me with her knee.

"You better drink that," Quinn said. "Chocolate helps. When you get the shakes."

"Like in Harry Potter," I grinned.

"Exactly like in Harry Potter," Quinn nodded. "Except Finn isn't as ugly or scary as a dementor."

"I'd beg to differ," I laughed weakly. "About the scary part."

"Just don't let him kiss you," Quinn whispered. "He'll suck out your soul."

I nearly choked on my cocoa as I laughed again. Quinn caught the mug and held it steady in my hand. When she placed it down, she turned and wrapped her arm around my shoulder.

"Don't tell Rachel I said that," Quinn said. "Santana and I are in agreement about it."

"That he eats souls?"

"Well, maybe he just kinda diminishes them for a while," Quinn laughed. "We would know. The three of us have all dated him."

"Really?" I wrinkled my nose. I didn't mean to, but it was weird to think that Santana and Finn... I shuddered.

"High school was full of a lot of really bad decisions," Quinn nodded. "But that's besides the point. You don't need to worry about that."

"Thank you for the cocoa," I murmured.

"Of course," Quinn smiled. She moved the ice pack on her cheek and let out a sigh as she fell back onto the couch. She didn't say anything more, and maybe it was just that Quinn was a quiet person. But I liked that she talked to me. It was nice, and I felt like we were connecting over something, even if that something was as bad as what had just happened. I didn't want to it to end, even if maybe she didn't have anything else to say.

"Santana said you like Alice in Wonderland," I said quickly as I leaned back. "That it's your favorite book."

"Through the Looking Glass, actually," Quinn nodded, twisting her head to look at me. "Though I do like both."

"She said it's because of all the queens and stuff. Or chess?" I couldn't remember.

"No, not at all," Quinn furrowed her brow. "Have you read it?"

"I read it a while ago. Alice in Wonderland, I mean," I shrugged. "In High School we had to do a report on movie adaptations and how they differed from the novelization. My English teacher found out a lot of us were just watching the movies of most of the books we read in class."

"That's smart," Quinn laughed. "Did you like the book?"

"Yeah... I like the Cheshire cat," I said. "But also that song by the Mock Turtle."

"Oh? The Lobster Quadrille?"

"Yes! That one," I said, picking up my mug and bringing it to my lips to take a sip.

"'What matters it how far we go?' his scaly friend replied," Quinn said slowly. She looked up at the ceiling, like she was trying to remember something. "There is another shore, you know, upon the other side."

"The further off from England the nearer is to France," I grinned. "Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance."

"Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?" Quinn said, waving her finger up and down in the air lightly as she said the wills and won'ts.

"Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?" I laughed.

"That's a good one," Quinn said. "My favorite is the Jabberwocky, but I also really like The Walrus and the Carpenter. It was in the movie. But that's just also because I love the Beatles."

"Huh?"

"I Am the Walrus?" Quinn said, raising a brow.

"I missed the whole Beatles thing," I said, waving my hand over my head. "I think we were born a little late for that."

"Yeah, it's terrible," Quinn said and wrinkled her nose. "Why do you like the Lobster's Quadrille? That's sort of random."

"I don't know," I said. "I haven't really thought about it in a while. I just remember really liking it when I read it."

"Alice in Wonderland is a terribly confusing story," Quinn laughed. "Did you get a good grade on your paper?"

"Yes," I nodded. "But mostly because I wrote about how the movie made a lot more sense. Why do you like Through the Looking Glass if it's not because of what Santana said?"

"Santana thinks I like it because of all the strategy and theme of chess throughout the novel, and Alice trying to become crowned Queen," Quinn rolled her eyes. "And as much as I love the White Queen, I like the book because Alice starts as a pawn in the story, and ends having conquered the Red Queen... in some respect."

"So you do like it because of the theme of chess," I said.

"I like it because it's silly," Quinn laughed. "And yet under all the confusing mess, everything has a point and can be figured out. The whole novel is a puzzle."

"We should watch Alice in Wonderland next for the next Monday Night Movie," I said.

"I would love that," Quinn nodded. She looked kind of sleepy as she let out a soft hum.

"'The time has come,' the Walrus said," Quinn sang softly. "To talk of other things. Of shoes and ships and sealing-wax."

"And cabbages and kings," I grinned.

"And why the sea is boiling hot," we giggled softly as Quinn gestured to my cocoa.

"And whether pigs have wings," I said, fluttering my free hand in the air.

"Callooh, callay, no work today," Quinn smiled.

"We're cabbages and kings!" We said a little louder as Quinn rose her hand triumphantly in the air.

* * *

><p>"Clock me out," Santana said as she threw on her jacket.<p>

"You can't just leave in the middle of work," Tina objected.

"Do I look like I fucking care?" Santana spat. "No one is here anyway. It's a Wednesday. Rory can handle this. Right?"

"Aye, yeah, I can do that," Rory nodded. "Let 'er go, Tina. That phone call sounded serious."

"Just don't do anything rash, Santana," Tina said, moving closer to her as they both walked towards the exit. "Brittany's okay, right?"

"Quinn said so," Santana nodded. "But I won't know for sure until I get home. I'm going to kick that giant oaf's ass-"

"That's rash," Tina frowned. "And dumb. Santana, Finn is like a foot taller than you. Not to mention he used to be quarterback."

"I'll go with her."

The two froze and looked up.

"What? I overheard most of it. You weren't exactly quiet on the phone, there, Santana," Puck said, crossing his arms over his chest as he rose from the bar.

"When the hell did you get here?" Santana spat.

"About when you were wrestling Tina over your phone," Puck twisted, pointing back to the bar. "You really didn't notice I was here?"

"Not at all," Santana frowned and turned away.

"I guess that Irish fellow did make my drink," Puck said, lifting his glass and shaking the ice before setting it back down. "Whatever, I'll make sure she stays out of trouble, Tina." He winked.

"Fuck no. Stay out of this," Santana growled. "This is none of your business."

"Finn's my bro," Puck said. "Maybe a stupid, drunk bro right now, but I still got his back, okay? And more importantly, he's making an ass out of himself to a bunch of gals that don't need his bullshit. Alright? I want to help."

"Let him go with you, S," Tina said. "If anything, he can at least take Finn home."

"You're not driving," Santana sighed. "Come on. I'll pay for your subway fare home."

"Thank you, Tina," Puck winked as he threw on his jacket.

"Don't thank me," Tina said, holding her hands in the air. "_Really_."

Santana bustled quickly to her car, not bothering to wait or look back to see if Puck was keeping up. He moved around to the passenger side as she quickly hustled into her car. She had her car turned on and was almost buckled in by the time he got his foot in the door.

"Will you hurry up?"

"Calm down, I'm not Speedy Gonzales," Puck retorted as he closed the door.

"Ugh!" Santana rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, bad joke," Puck shook his head. "Look, you gotta calm down. Whatever happened-"

"Can you stop being so nice to me?" Santana said. "Puck, I know you don't care about 'whatever happened.' You just want us to be something again. We've been through this-"

"Santana, did it ever occur to you that I might be a decent guy?"

Santana froze, with both hands firmly grasping the wheel. She clenched and unclenched her jaw, staring down at the dashboard.

"We were all a bunch of asses in high school," Puck said. "Me, Finn, Quinn. You. But I'm not holding who you used to be against you. You shouldn't do that to me."

Puck shifted in his seat and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and sighing.

"It's not cool, okay? For Finn to harass Rachel, even if he is drunk, alright? Rachel's my Jew bro. Always will be. And Q is... well," Puck shrugged. "Anyway...I don't know Brittany, but I know you. And you care about her, so I care about her, too. Or whatever."

"Puck..."

"It's not all about you," Puck said, tossing his hand in the air. "I mean, do I still have feelings for you? Yeah, okay? I'd be lying if I said any different. But that doesn't mean anything if you don't want that. Alright? I'm-"

"Puck," Santana said a little louder. He looked up at her and she exhaled softly. "I'm... I'm ga-" Santana stopped abruptly and shook her head. "...I'm glad you still care enough. That we can be friends. I was being a jerk. Just. I just don't want to deal with that topic right now."

"You brought it up," Puck murmured.

"And I take it back," Santana nodded. "I'm sorry. Puck, you _are_ a decent guy. And any girl would be lucky to have you once she saw how much of a diamond in the rough you are."

Puck smiled weakly as she switched the car out of park.

"You know, if you stopped playing the bad boy, girls would see that more," Santana said. "You're looking for love in all the wrong places."

"How can you say such nice things but still make me feel like you're punching my heart into my throat?" Puck grumbled.

"Because you want me to continue and say 'baby, take me, I'm yours,'" Santana said. "And I'm just not going to do that."

"Can't blame a guy for trying," Puck shrugged.

"Oh no, I can," Santana said. "But not you."

"Finn?"

"Yep," Santana nodded as her brow furrowed again.

It didn't take long for Santana to pull into her parking spot. She still managed to unbuckle and jump out of the car before Puck did. She tore across the street and towards her apartment building where Finn was sitting, still outside the apartment complex with his head hanging and his hands gripped tightly to the back of his neck.

"Get up," Santana shouted. "Get the fuck up and get the hell away from our apartment."

"Nice, Santana," Puck said quietly as he jogged up behind her. "Definitely gonna help."

"Santana," Finn said as his head shot up and he looked at her with wide eyes as she stormed towards him.

"What the fuck did you do? Huh? I said get up!"

* * *

><p>"What are you singing?" Rachel laughed as she got off her phone.<p>

"Oh yes, ahh," I cheered as I sat up. "The time has come, my little friends, to talk of food and things."

"Of peppercorn, some mustard seed," Quinn nodded. "And other seasonings."

"We'll mix them all together in a sauce that's fit for kings," I grinned.

"Callooh-" Quinn and I sang and Rachel laughed.

"Callay, we'll eat today," Rachel nodded.

"Like cabbages and kings!" we all shouted in unison, followed by a fit of giggles. Our laughter was interrupted by sudden shouting, and the three of us looked to the open window in the kitchen. Upon further inspection, the shouts sounded like they were in another language.

"Shit," Quinn exhaled. "I guess Santana's home."

"-_cosas malas_-!"

"Oh, I don't like when she speaks Spanish when she's angry," I murmured.

"When else does she speak Spanish?" Quinn grumbled as she moved towards the door to the apartment.

"Oh," I exhaled, and my brow furrowed as I sheepishly bit my lip. Rachel glanced at me and smirked. "When she's sleepy?"

"Uh-huh," Rachel nodded, but I caught her eye-roll.

Quinn was already out the door, and Rachel and I quickly made our way after her. She didn't wait for the elevator and instead rushed down the stairwell. It was faster, I guess, because a moment later we were at the front door.

"Rachel, stay inside," Quinn said. Rachel's head bobbed up and down and I followed Quinn outside. As I staggered down the steps, Kurt slammed the door to his car shut and ran up. Puck was struggling to hold Santana back with one arm around her waist, the other extended to push Finn backwards. Quinn stretched her arms out to stop me from getting any closer as Kurt quickly caught Finn's arm and pulled him back.

"Stop it," Finn shouted, jerking his arm, but Kurt kept his hold and moved to wrap both arms under Finn's.

"You're being ridiculous!" Kurt yelled.

"I just need to talk to Rachel!"

"Fuck that," Santana shouted. "You leave that poor girl alone. All you do is cause her grief!"

"You're one to talk," Finn said. "All you ever do is make snide remarks and tear people down!"

"You cheated, Finn," Santana snapped, twisting in Puck's arms and angrily thrashing to get free. "No amount of talking is going to change that!"

"Like you're any different!" Finn said, breaking one arm away from Kurt. He jabbed a finger at Santana and glowered. "How many times have you cheated? Slept around? At least I owned up to it."

Puck froze and his hesitation let Santana tear herself free. She slammed her palms against Finn's chest, making him stumble backwards into Kurt.

"Santana!" I shouted and strained against Quinn's arm. I knew Santana was tough. She'd proven that. But Finn was terrifying. And he towered over her in height and weight. "Stop fighting!"

Santana faltered and snapped her attention back towards us. Her eyes stayed on me for a moment before they froze on Quinn. One moment, she looked completely stunned and the next, her brow furrowed and she snapped her head back to Finn. He had hesitated and his attention was drawn to us, but then he tore free from Kurt's grasp. He staggered forward and Puck moved to catch him a moment before Santana lunged at him again. Her hand flew out to try to punch him, but he jerked back just in time to avoid it.

"You hit her!" Santana snarled. Puck threw his free hand forward to keep Santana at bay. She lashed out at both men as Kurt struggled to push her back while Puck overpowered Finn. Kurt tried to catch her around the waist. I forced Quinn's arm away and rushed forward when Santana elbowed Kurt and wriggled free from his grip. She shouted something in Spanish again, before switching back to English.

"Let him go! I'm not scared," Santana cried. "Obviously he has no problem hitting girls! He shouldn't have any trouble with being beaten up by one!"

I managed to squeeze between Santana and Kurt from behind and quickly threw my arms around her so that I held her in a tight bear hug. She started thrashing violently.

"Let me go, Kurt! I can handle Finn on my own!" Santana shouted. She twisted and tried to force her arms out and around to get free. It was hard to keep my hold on her as she flailed, but I squeezed my arms tighter around her.

"Santana," I said, as sternly as I could without shouting. She hesitated and tensed quickly at the sound of my voice.

"Calm down, Santana," I said, softer still, as I took a step back and pulled her away. She staggered along with my steps, but she ceased any attempt to get free. Kurt moved forward and helped Puck restrain Finn.

"Stop. Please, stop," I murmured to her quietly, and she relaxed completely. Her head rolled back a bit as she pressed her back against me, and I heard her let out a long, quiet sigh. It was shaky and made her body shudder against me. I held onto her firmly and pressed my cheek to the side of her head. "Santana..."

"Dude, you're making a fool out of yourself," Puck said, gritting his teeth. I glanced up to see both him and Kurt struggling to keep Finn steady.

"Stop being an ass, Finn," Kurt grumbled. Finn was still trying to get free, but the two of them combined overpowered him and were managing to keep him back.

I wasn't as focused on what was going on anymore. I heard them continue speaking and Finn made sounds of protest, but my attention was on Santana. I could feel her heart beating rapidly against the arm I had splayed over her chest. She hung weakly in my arms, her eyes fixated on the pavement. She was breathing heavily, but I could feel it slowing with every breath and her pounding heart started to return to normal. I loosened my hold on her, but her hand slid up gently over mine and kept it where it was.

"No, she's the one making a fool out of you! Why are you defending her?" Finn shouted. I looked up and saw he was yelling in Puck's face. "All she ever does is use people. She uses them and tosses them aside once she's gotten what she wants!"

Puck's face contorted as his brow furrowed. "Back off, man."

"She's a slut!"

"Don't call her that!" I shouted, loud enough that Santana jumped in surprise and Puck caught himself just before his hand flew at Finn's face.

"She's awesome and amazing and super sweet," I called, holding Santana steady. "All she ever does is care for other people. You don't even know-"

"Britt," Santana exhaled. She pushed her arm against mine and twisted. I loosened my grip on her as she pulled away from me. "...shut up." Her voice was soft and she looked embarrassed. Her eyes were trained to the ground and her brow was creased in that way when she was worried about something. I made an attempt to move closer to her, but she pushed my hands away and stepped back. "Just stop."

"I didn't..." I started, but I honestly didn't know what to say. She was upset. I could see that. Was it because I'd drawn even more attention to her?

"See?" Finn said and I snapped up to look at him. He was still being restrained, but he had the smallest smirk on his face. "I can't believe you were stupid enough to fall for her game-"

"She's not _stupid_," Santana snarled. Before I could stop her, she was on him again, yelling for Puck and Kurt to let him go. She made a swing at him, but Puck dropped his hold on Finn to grab her at the last second.

"Jesus, Santana," Puck said.

"Don't you dare!" Santana shouted. "You have no right to insult her!"

"Santana, stop it!" I said, rushing to grab at her, but before I could, Finn swung his free hand at her. We all froze as she reeled back, her arm slipping out of Puck's while she stumbled a few steps back. Finn's open hand hovered in the air and his eyes widened.

"Shit," Finn exhaled. "I didn't mean to actually hit-"

Santana's fist collided with his jaw before he could spat something in Spanish and Puck grabbed her around the waist, lifting her in the air as he pulled her back. She writhed and succeeded in aiming a hard kick at his groin before she was torn away. He let out a loud groan before he fell and curled forward in pain. Santana stopped struggling when I placed my hands on her shoulders. Puck let her go to grab Finn again before he recovered.

"Get him out of here," Puck said to Kurt. They dragged the injured giant back and I turned back to Santana. She had blood trickling from her nose and she was so angry, her eyes had started to water.

"I..." Santana shook her head and then twisted away.

"Santana!" I called after her as she stormed towards the apartment building. She brushed past Quinn, storming up the few steps that lead to the door. Quinn and I followed, joined almost immediately by Puck as he jogged back towards us. Rachel was still transfixed in the doorway with a terrified look on her face.

"Okay, Kurt's taking him home," Puck said with a loud sigh. I didn't stick around to listen for any more details and rushed after Santana. I caught sight of her as the door to the stairwell closed. Quinn, Rachel and Puck followed me as I gave chase, but she kept ahead of me all the way up to our apartment.

"Santana," I repeated as she paused to unlock the door. She glanced up at me for a second, shook her head again and let herself inside. The rest of us followed, scrambling into the living room, but she continued and stormed up the steps.

"I'll talk to her," Puck said, but I caught his arm.

"No, I got this," I murmured.

"She doesn't want to talk to you."

"Let her, Puck," Rachel said quietly. Quinn and Puck stared at her, but I took advantage of their hesitation to run up the stairs. The sound of the faucet drew me to the bathroom, where I found Santana soaking a washcloth.

"Let me," I offered as she lifted the wash cloth to her face. She jerked her hand away and shot me a look in the mirror before glancing away.

"Leave me alone," Santana muttered.

"You should know by now I'm not going to do that," I said, stepping closer to her, turning for a second to shut the door. "Talk to me, Santana."

"I don't know what to say," Santana spat. "I'm pissed, okay?"

"Okay," I nodded.

"I just..." She closed her eyes and shook her head and dropped the washcloth. "I don't... I don't want you to be around me when I'm upset."

"I don't care, Santana-"

"I do!" Santana snapped. I froze and caught her gaze in the mirror. She held it for a moment before sighing and looking down to turn off the water.

"I care," Santana murmured softly. "Because I do stupid things when I'm angry. And I don't want you caught in the crossfire."

Santana dropped her hands to the sink, holding herself up as she exhaled again. I looked away from the mirror to her directly, and I stood silently as she took in several deep breaths.

"I already made you feel bad," Santana said. "Out there. I pushed you away. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"I just- Brittany." She shook her head. "I don't want to make a spectacle of myself. Of my sexuality. Of _us_. In front of _him._ I... I want to be in control of who I tell and how it happens, but it just gets so close to coming out sometimes."

"Okay," I nodded, and this time when I placed my hand on hers she didn't recoil. I gently pulled the washcloth out of her hand and used my other hand to tilt her head to look up at me.

"Santana, when I said I don't care, I meant I just want to be there for you," I explained as I dabbed gently at the blood that had collected above her lip. She winced, so I made my gestures smaller and slower.

"I understand you don't want everyone to find out that way," I said. "I don't either. That would be worse than before. I'll be more careful-"

"You didn't do anything wrong," Santana sighed. "Don't. I made it a bigger deal than it needed to be."

"It is a big deal," I said, lowering the washcloth and raising her chin to inspect it. "Does it hurt?"

"Like a bitch," Santana grunted. She paused and then let out a small laugh.

"It's not broken, is it?" I asked, letting my hand slid away from her chin and delicately ghosting my fingers over the side of her nose. She bowed her head and shook it.

"I'm okay," Santana said.

"Okay. Then I guess I don't need to kiss it better now that it stopped bleeding." I smiled and dropped my hand. She perked up and rose her eyebrows.

"Ow, wait, it does hurt," she said, puffing out her lower lip. I grinned and leaned forward to press a delicate kiss over her nose. She winced again, but waited a second before tilting her head up to catch my lips with hers as I was pulling away.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"For what?"

"For making you worry," Santana said, looking earnestly at me as she pressed her forehead to mine. I smiled and pressed my lips to hers again.

"I made you worry first," I said. "You left work because of me."

"Heh," Santana exhaled. "I don't care." She winked. The effect was a little lost because of how close we were, but I dropped the washcloth in the sink so that I could pull her even closer as I kissed her again.

"Are you okay?"

"Better now that you're here, safe and sound," I sighed. "I wish you hadn't fought with him."

"I don't care what he says about me," Santana said, inching forward and pressing into me. She didn't stop moving until my back pressed against the door. She lowered to kiss me as she pressed her hand to my waist.

"No one - says shit - about - my - girlfriend," Santana said between pecks. She held still after she said _girlfriend_ and I sighed. Unlike the last time I'd been pressed up against a door, I felt completely at peace with her against me. It felt safe, as if she had enveloped my whole body in soft, protective kisses. I snuggled into her and closed my eyes. If I could stay in her embrace forever, I think I would.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**I am really, really, really sorry for the delay. I had finals the past few weeks, and today I had to move out of my apartment and had to fly across the country. Not to mention this chapter was really difficult to write. I don't like Finn, but I really struggled with keeping him in character. I want to give a shout out to Team CAPPU (Wonderland, Laurasfantasia, and Lebanesetoaster) for their help. They must have read over the chapters like 50 times with me. Also, munkeyyy, for not being as much a distraction as she could have been. **

**School is out, but I'm on a different timezone now, so I don't know if that will affect things. Hopefully not too much. **

**Brittany/Madison's reportory assignment is to this song: Gotta get thru this by Daniel Bedingfield - .com/watch?v=DJyg8u9JzFw**


	32. Why Don't You Love Me: Heartache

"Brittany? Santana?" The voice was soft and meek. The bathroom door slowly slid open as Rachel poked her head in. Brittany was nestled in Santana's lap, fast asleep and tucked underneath the Latina's arm. A warm smile spread across Rachel's face as she opened the door a little wider.

"-huh?" Santana sniffled as she snapped awake. She looked up and when she caught sight of Rachel, they both froze. Santana's eyes widened and looked at Rachel like she had been caught with her hand in a cookie jar. She drew her hand away from Brittany quickly, but the proceeding murmur from the slumbering blonde made her regret the action immediately.

"S-sorry," Rachel said quietly. "I thought maybe you were still talking, but I needed to get my facial cleanser so I could use the bathroom downstairs and-"

"Shut up, Berry," Santana whispered. She had her hand in the air still. Brittany hummed and nuzzled her cheek against Santana's thigh. Santana's cheeks brightened a few shades of red.

"Is she asleep?" Rachel asked, kneeling down to the ground.

"Yeah, I guess we lost track of time," Santana said as she delicately attempted to sit upright without disturbing Brittany.

"Talking about what?" Rachel smiled, letting out a small laugh that Santana didn't return as Brittany fidgeted in her lap. Instead, she gave Rachel a stern, disapproving look.

"Nothing that concerns you," Santana said, a little harsher than she intended to.

Rachel looked down at the tiled bathroom floor and let out a quiet sigh.

"Sorry," Santana mumbled. "I don't want to wake her by talking, okay?"

"What's taking so long-"

"Shh!" Santana and Rachel both hissed as Quinn stepped into the bathroom. She froze and stared down at her roommates for a moment before a small smile formed on her lips.

"How cute," Quinn murmured.

"Stop gawking and help me get her to her bed," Santana grumbled. "My leg is asleep."

It took careful maneuvering and lots of angry glares from Santana for the three to scoop Brittany up and carry her to her bedroom without waking her up. Once they had her placed on the mattress, Santana proceeded to silently remove Brittany's shoes and tuck her in. She hurriedly left for a moment only to return a few seconds later with a plush, purple unicorn and set him gently on Brittany's stomach.

"I don't understand." Quinn shook her head and let out a light chuckle. "Is that yours or Brittany's?"

Santana shot her another dark look when Brittany shuffled beneath the covers, wrapping her arm around Jeremy as she twisted and rolled to her side. Santana smiled and brushed Brittany's bangs out of her face before standing up and gesturing for the others to leave. The three moved to exit and Santana flicked off Brittany's bedroom light before closing the door behind her.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you two fell asleep in the bathroom."

"Shut up," Santana grumbled. "We got caught up talking. It's no different than you and Rachel falling asleep on the couch while debating politics or religion or whatever the hell it is you two talk about."

"Music and books, mostly," Quinn said with a frown. "Lighten up. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Santana said, glancing back at Brittany's door. "Just tired."

"Obviously, or you wouldn't have fallen asleep on the floor," Quinn said, looping her arm in Santana's as she pulled her down the stairs.

"What time is it?" Santana grumbled.

"Late," Rachel replied. "Almost midnight. Maybe past it."

"Did Puck leave?"

"A while ago." Quinn nodded. "Do you wanna talk about what's eating you?"

"Not really, no," Santana said as she was pulled to sit on the couch. She let out a loud sigh and sprawled herself out over the middle cushion, tilting her head to rest it on Quinn's shoulder. "A lot of shit happened tonight."

"Heh, yeah," Quinn laughed. "We haven't had this much excitement around here in a while."

Santana nodded. "I definitely agree with that."

"Of course you would, you normally sleep through everything," Quinn said. Santana rolled her eyes.

"You know it does help to talk about things, Santana," Rachel said from curled up on the recliner. "Even if you don't really know how or what to say, getting it off your chest makes it so much easier to deal with."

Santana looked up at Rachel for a moment, giving her a long stare that was more analytical than it was menacing. She blinked and shook her head before staring down at the coffee table.

"I'm just worried, okay?" Santana said and shrugged. "It's stupid."

"I thought you didn't want us throwing that word around?" Quinn said, raising her brow. Santana grunted and twisted away to turn towards Rachel.

"Shut up," Santana grumbled.

"You can't expect us to give Brittany special treatment," Quinn said, nudging Santana lightly and chuckling. "Whatever you're thinking, it's probably not stupid if it's upsetting you."

"I don't like Brittany's friends," Santana sighed.

"That was not what I was expecting you to be worried about," Rachel murmured under her breath as she sat up a little.

"What does that have to do with Finn?" Quinn asked, her brow wrinkling as she stared at Santana in confusion.

"Absolutely nothing," Santana snapped. "It's just what I'm worried about, okay?"

Quinn fell silent and nodded slowly. Santana was quickly becoming defensive and abrasive. While Quinn would typically walk away and call Santana an idiot for the way she was acting, Santana was opening up more than she was closing them off. Quinn scooted forward and placed her hand gently on Santana's arm.

"Yeah, okay," Quinn nodded. "Why don't you like her friends? What friends, even? I only ever see her hanging out with you."

"Some girl from her dance class," Santana said. "Madison, I think?"

"Wait, you don't know her name? Have you ever even met her?" Rachel asked.

"...I think so," Santana mumbled.

"How can you think you've met one of Brittany's friends?" Quinn tilted her head to the side. "Wouldn't you remember if Brittany introduced you?"

After a long pause, Santana replied, "I think Madison is one of the girls from the bar."

The girls fell silent and Quinn leaned back as she analyzed Santana's expression. She was slumped into the couch, her brow was creased, and her usually voluptuous lips were spread thin in a tight grimace. Even her nose wrinkled a little, as though she was disgusted.

"Are you serious?" Rachel was the first to speak.

"How do you know that?" Quinn asked.

Santana let out a sigh. "There were three girls. I ran into the other two again, but the third one... She was quiet. I remember her because she was quiet."

"You can't assume-" Rachel murmured.

"It's mostly a hunch, okay? But why hide?" Santana said. "If the other two didn't?"

"Did you tell her?" Quinn asked. "Did you tell Brittany?"

"No, and it needs to stay that way," Santana said, crossing her arms.

"Why?" Quinn snapped as she sat up. "If that girl is one of the girls that jumped you, then don't you think Brittany ought to know?"

"And if I'm wrong?" Santana said. "Even if I'm right, what am I supposed to do? Brittany doesn't have anyone else, Quinn. The only other friend she's _ever_ spoken of was Jenna. I'm not going to make her panic and stress over something based on speculation."

Santana stared at the ground. She flinched when Quinn took in a sharp breath and held it. For that moment that no one spoke, Santana fidgeted in discomfort. Quinn opened her mouth a few times to speak, shaking her head or bowing it slightly each time she stopped herself. Then she let out an audible, but quiet, sigh.

"Alright then," Quinn said, shrugging lightly.

"What?" Santana's head snapped up to look Quinn in the eye.

"I don't think it's a smart decision," Quinn said. Santana opened her mouth, but Quinn held her hand up to keep her quiet. "To not tell Brittany. But I can see why you don't want to tell her. And for once, you're not doing something completely selfish."

"I'm not-"

"I know you're not," Quinn said. "Well... not lately. Rachel and I won't say anything," Quinn continued, giving Rachel a look before rolling her eyes. "If Rachel can keep her mouth shut."

"I'm _very_ good at keeping secrets," Rachel said with a frown.

"Right," Quinn sighed. "Look, holding off and not telling her seems like it's bound to have repercussions. Secrets _always_ do that. But it's your secret to tell."

Santana broke eye contact with Quinn and flicked her eyes back to the carpet. She sucked on her lower lip for a second before she let her tongue wet it. Her brow twitched and she tensed until Quinn placed her hand on Santana's knee and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Quinn..." Santana murmured softly. "I... I'll figure things out."

* * *

><p>My whole body jerked forward and I grabbed the closest thing to me. When I shot up from beneath covers, I was clutching something soft tightly to my chest and let out a gasp. For a second, as my eyes adjusted to the darkness that surrounded me, I thought I was holding Santana's hand. I felt embarrassed until I realized the thing held to my breasts was Jeremy instead. I let out a soft sigh of relief when my room started to become recognizable as my eyes adjusted to the dark.<p>

I squinted my eyes and lifted my hands to pinch the bridge of my nose. Whatever I had been dreaming was fading away quickly. Trickling away like water in a strainer. It had something to do with Santana, I think. No, that guy had been there. Finn? Whatever Rachel's boyfriend's name was. I think. Was that a dream? I wasn't sure. Maybe I had been dancing. That didn't make any sense.

I gave up trying to remember what it was and opened my eyes again. I glanced around and kicked off the covers when I realized Santana wasn't in my bed with me. That made me worried, because I swear in my dream, Santana had kicked that guy. Or fought him. Or something. I scrambled out of bed and made my way to the window, still gripping Jeremy under my arm. It took seconds to cross the distance of the fire escape. It was cold; the metal against my bare feet. When I made it to Santana's window, I peered in and saw her room was empty still.

I froze. Was Santana okay? I blinked back the fatigue that was fighting me and tore back to my window. Wait, Santana and I had talked. Afterwards. In the bathroom. I scrambled in through the window and then to my door.

"Santana?" I called out when I got into the hallway. I looked to my right down the hall and then moved towards the stairs. "Santana-"

"-Do you really think I'm selfish?"

I paused at the top of the stairs and held there for a moment. I could feel my body wavering, so I gripped the handrail to steady myself.

"I didn't mean it like that." I heard Quinn let out a loud, almost annoyed sigh. "I just think if it's that big a deal, you need to talk to Brittany about it."

I froze. Again. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I just was trying to steady myself before I went down the stairs because my feet were prickly from walking across the fire escape. And I felt like passing out. But hearing Santana talking to Quinn about me made my stomach flip. Had Santana told Quinn? About us?

"I will." Santana spoke quietly, but her voice still sounded stern. "I just need to know for sure. Before I say anything."

I felt my chest swell a little. A small smile started to spread across my lips but it disappeared a second later when my foot slipped against the edge of the step I'd been standing on. I let out a small yelp and threw my other hand to catch the rail. I teetered for another moment, trying to steady myself. My eyes were wide and I must have looked petrified when Santana suddenly appeared at the base of the stairs, followed quickly by Quinn and Rachel.

"Hey," Santana exhaled as she took a few steps up towards me. "You're awake..." Her voice was soft and soothing to my ears. I felt myself relax and she smiled at me. I smiled back and then her eyes widened and she moved quickly towards me again. I guess I had let go of the railing and started to waver, because her arms caught around me and held me close. I think the weight was too much for her, because she stumbled and plopped down, pulling me with her as we sat down on the stairs.

"Britt," Santana laughed. "Are you sleepwalking?"

"No..." I murmured. "I'm awake..."

"Bring her down here," Quinn shook her head. "Before she falls all the way down."

"C'mere, you goof," Santana said, pulling my arm up and over her shoulder to drape over her neck as she rose. I pressed my cheek to her neck and inhaled softly through my nose. She smelled absolutely wonderful. I wanted to know if she told Quinn, but how could I ask her?

"Can I kiss you?" I whispered in her ear. She let out a nervous laugh and her hand tightened around my waist as my legs steadied on the step.

"Definitely," Santana said softly. "But not right now."

My smile grew for a split second before it faded completely. I think she noticed, because I slumped further into her as my disappointment took over. Her other hand stretched forward to help steady me as we moved down the steps.

"Maybe I should just take you back upstairs," Santana said.

"Only if you'll come with me," I pleaded. I could hear in my voice I was whining, but I couldn't tell if I had been quiet or not. I think I wasn't trying to be anymore. I was disappointed, and I really didn't have any right to be. Assuming Santana had said something she hadn't and getting worked up about it wasn't fair. But if she hadn't told Quinn about us, what had she been talking about?

"Britt, I can't just leave-" Santana murmured. We looked down the stairs. Rachel and Quinn had already moved back to the living room. "...We were talking."

"Okay..." I nodded. "I'm awake, really." I stood up a little, putting more weight on my feet and less on Santana as I steadied.

"Sorry, Britt, I-"

"Do you need help?" Quinn poked her head around the stairwell up at us.

"I'm fine," I waved and staggered forward. I nearly tripped again at the base of the stairs, but Quinn caught me.

"For a dance major, you can be really uncoordinated," Quinn laughed.

"I'm just tired," I mumbled in defense.

"I think we all are," Quinn nodded. "But Rachel and I were waiting on the pizza in the oven."

"Shit, I am really hungry," Santana said.

"How does that work?" I said, standing upright. "Doesn't pizza have cheese?"

"I don't actually know," Quinn shook her head. "Non-dairy cheese and rice crust or something?"

"That sounds awful," Santana said wrinkled her nose. "Are you hungry, Britt?" She linked her arm in mine and led me towards the kitchen.

"Starving," I murmured, tilting my head to rest on her shoulder.

"I'll make you some PB and J," she said, pressing her hand gently to my stomach to sit me down in my swivel chair. "Or is lunch food not okay? Since you don't like breakfast for dinner."

"PB and J sounds perfect," I nodded. Santana smiled softly at me before twirling around to face the pantry. She had to dance around Rachel, but a few seconds later, she was bustling at the counter with the bread and the jam. While she was preoccupied, Quinn slide into the chair next to me as Rachel pulled out the vegan pizza. I couldn't help but wrinkle my nose as it, even if it didn't look that different than a regular pizza. I glanced at Quinn and could tell that she was struggling not to grimace as well. But Quinn was much better at hiding her expression than I was.

"Today was crazy," I yawned, stretching my hands up over my head. Santana finished making our sandwiches and set a plate in front of me while Rachel did the same for Quinn. I smiled at her and she leaned towards me. For a second I thought she was going to give me a kiss, but instead she lifted her hand and ruffled my hair. She let it linger a second before picking at strands to fix it immediately after.

"You're not going to fall asleep on us after I spent all that time making you a sandwich, are you?" Santana said, raising a brow at me.

"I know how much you slaved over it," I giggled, wrinkling my nose as I beamed up at her. She rolled her eyes and batted her hand at me, gently shaking her head. I could tell she was fighting so hard not to smile any bigger than she already was. I caught Rachel's gaze and lowered mine to my sandwich. Rachel was not subtle at all, and I was really starting to wonder how Quinn did not realize how into Santana I was.

"You cut off the crusts!" I gasped.

"Yeah?" Santana said, placing her hand on her hip.

"Awesome," I grinned and shoved a piece in my mouth. She'd made me PB and J before, but it always surprised me how much care Santana put into making food for me.

"I'll trade you," Quinn said, holding out her slice of pizza. It had one bite taken out of it and she shook it at the other half of my sandwich.

"Hell no, that's Britt's," Santana said, shaking her triangle of a sandwich at Quinn.

"You don't like it?" Rachel said quietly. She looked a little hurt with a frown on her face that made her lower lip pucker out and her brow furrowed slightly.

"Berry, no one likes your vegan food," Santana said.

"You liked the macaroni and cheese," Rachel replied.

"Not more than real food," Santana shook her head. Quinn let out a small laugh, but quickly covered her mouth as she drew back her slice of pizza.

"It's not that bad," Quinn shrugged. "I like it..."

"You're a liar," Santana accused, leaning on the counter.

"Go on, try it," Quinn said, stretching forward over me and holding the slice up to her face. Santana hesitated, glanced at me and then at Rachel, before she leaned forward to take a bite from the pizza. Quinn slapped her other hand forward and grabbed the other half of Santana's sandwich while letting go of the slice Santana held in her mouth. It dropped to the table as soon as Santana realized what was going on, but Quinn pulled her hand back before Santana could snatch it back.

"Bitch!" Santana cried. Quinn stuck out her tongue quickly before chomping down on the sandwich.

"Wan' i' back?" Quinn said with a mouthful of PB and J as she politely held the triangle up.

"No," Santana wrinkled her nose.

"You can have some more pizza," Rachel said quietly as she gestured to the pie in front of all of us. Santana grimaced and Quinn and I both laughed. I nudged my plate towards her and broke the remaining triangle in half.

"Thanks..." Santana mumbled and gave me a sheepish smile. I gave her a small smile back before nibbling at my sandwich.

* * *

><p>"Santana-" I giggled, trying to press my hands to her stomach and push her away. She placed her hands on mine and attempted to guide them to her waist as she lowered again, pressing soft, wet kisses against my neck. I shuddered, but put a little more pressure against my palms and she grunted as I forced distance between us. It wasn't hard because she was stretched over the center console of her car.<p>

"I was helping," Santana mumbled.

"It's not 'helping' when you say, 'Oh you have something on your face,' and then proceed to _be_ that something," I said as I arched my brow. She looked up at me and pouted, letting out a small huff of air that shot straight up and forced a strand of hair out of her face. I lifted my hand and fixed her hair before leaning forward and giving her a soft, quick peck on the lips. When I sat back, I picked up the empty wrapper in my lap and crumpled it before stuffing it in the paper bag at my feet.

We were parked in an underpass somewhere between Juilliard and our apartment. Santana had picked me up after class for lunch, but instead of eating out, we'd gone to a drive thru. I thought it was just to save time, because we had to squeeze lunch into the time between my class and hers, but she'd spent the better part of an hour preoccupied with trying to find alternate ways or reasons to kiss me. If I had to guess, I would say it partially had something to do with the lack of kissing and touching from last night. By the time we'd gone to bed, we were so tired and drained from what had happened with Finn, all either of us cared about was snuggling and sleep.

"Fine," Santana grumbled as she sat back properly in her seat and let out a small 'hmph' as she crossed her arms. I leaned forward and grabbed her paper wrapper from where it had fallen out of her lap and put it with the rest of the trash. I looked up at her, twisting so that my head was suspended sideways above her lap.

"Don't pout. You have class," I said with a smile. She peered down at me, holding her scowl for a moment before it broke into a smile and she rolled her eyes.

"I am so glad I don't have work tonight," Santana sighed and let her arms unfold so she could stroke her fingers through my hair. She wrapped her hand around my head and gently pulled me up in a proper seated position before gripping both sides of my face and kissing me again.

"Tonight, you are _all_ mine," she said, wrinkling her nose as she grinned. I looked up at her and bit my lip. My brow creased a little and her smile faltered.

"No, come on," she whined. "Your friend didn't ask to practice again, did she? No fair, I don't want to share-"

"No, no," I laughed, leaning forward to kiss her quiet. "Can I see your phone? I need to check something."

"That doesn't explain why I can't have you tonight-"

I cut her off with another kiss, and slowly, Santana pulled her phone out of her pocket. I grinned and withdrew as I flipped the phone around in my hand and unlocked it. She peered over my shoulder as I found the weather application and checked what it would be like from now to tomorrow evening.

"...what are you looking at the weather for?" Santana rose her brow at me. I handed her back her phone and took her hand other hand in mine to give a gentle squeeze.

"Nothing," I smiled. "You have to wait until tomorrow to find out."

"This has to do with the mystery date," Santana said in realization. "Ah, you're just teasing me now."

"I am," I smiled. "C'mon, you have class soon."

"Can't I skip?" she pleaded.

"Even if you do, I have things I have to do for tomorrow, babe," I said. She let out an exasperated sigh, so I brought her hand to my lips as I kissed it softly. A smile crept over her lips and she pulled it away for a moment to turn on the car and shift gears before she wrapped it back in mine and tangled our fingers together.

"I have no idea what you're planning, but it better be good." Santana shook her head. She let up on the break and I leaned over the console to rest my head on her shoulder. I honestly didn't know if Santana would like my date plan, but all that was really important was that I got to spend time with her. Alone time where it didn't matter if I held her hand or kissed her. Or that we wouldn't have to sit in the car in darkened underpasses just to be somewhat intimate with one another.

Santana didn't press any further for information about our date while she drove home. Neither of us had turned on the radio. We usually had music playing, but Santana's hand was locked in mine and I knew well enough by now that she didn't like other people touching her music. We didn't talk either. I was satisfied with the silence, though. It was calm and peaceful and just perfect.

That sense of calm changed when Santana's car approached our apartment. I felt her shoulder tense under my cheek and I squeezed her hand a little too tightly. She slipped her hand away from mine after she pulled her car into her parking space in order to shift gears again. I picked my head up off her shoulder and she twisted a little to look at me while I moved to collect my things.

"Don't let your preparations for tomorrow take too long," Santana laughed. There was something off about the pitch of her laugh, and I nodded and returned a weak smile.

"As long as you don't distract me, I'll get everything done with time to spare," I said, leaning forward and pecking her softly on the lips. I pulled back and unbuckled my seat belt. "Have fun in class?"

Santana leaned forward and caught my hand as I reached with the other to open the door. I turned to look at her and she tugged me closer to catch my lips in hers. My shoulders relaxed a little and a sigh escaped my lips when she lifted her hand out of mine and cupped my cheek. She held there, with just her lips pressed to mine in a long, tender kiss until I moved mine against hers. She let me for just enough time before drawing back and running her hand up and back through my hair in one gentle swipe.

"I'll be home soon," she whispered softly. Her forehead was pressed against mine and she stared deeply into my eyes. I felt like I was melting.

I nodded against her. "Okay."

"See you soon," she said back, but neither one of us moved. It took every ounce of willpower for me not to kiss her again. To intertwine our hands and hold her close. I didn't want her to go to class. I didn't care about the date. I didn't like saying goodbye, even if it was just for her two hour history lecture.

"I'm gonna be late," Santana breathed.

"Sorry," I mumbled and finally pulled away. "Come home as soon as you can, but be safe." I opened the door to her car.

"I will," Santana smiled and nodded. I got up and out of the car, twisting around as I looked down through the doorframe. I lingered there for a second. Maybe a beat too long, because it started to feel awkward again, so I took a step back. I waved at her after I closed the door and she blew me a kiss. I pretended to snatch it out of the air and laughed as she looked at me expectantly. I brought my hand to my lips and blew a kiss back. She caught it and grinned toothily at me before she started to back out of her space.

Her car stopped again once she was properly positioned on the road and she beamed at me. I smiled back and waved again as she drove away. When she had disappeared from sight, my hand fell to my side and I frowned. I didn't like that being separated from Santana always left this hollow feeling inside of me.

* * *

><p><em>I'm still mad at you. - Santana<em>

I looked down at the text message and a wide grin spread over my lips. I quickly tapped on the number pad to reply. I only had a fifteen minute break in my repertory class, but we all generally left each other alone to stretch and drink water. I was backed up against the window in the corner of the room with my one leg stretched out directly in front of me.

_If you're so mad, why did you text me? :)_

My smile stayed in place as I stretched my arms up above my head, my closed phone still clenched in my fist. I hadn't even finished stretching before I got a reply.

_Just because I'm mad I didn't get any last night doesn't mean you're not still completely sexy. - Santana_

A loud 'ha' escaped my lips and my eyes widened as I looked up to see Madison glancing my direction. I quickly brought my gaze back down to my phone to reply.

_So you're mad, but I'm sexy, so I still get texts?_

I set my phone down in front of me as I stretched forward and laid flat against my leg. My phone buzzed again and I stared at it for a second. Santana must not have been doing anything when I replied to the first message.

_I'm not mad. I could never be mad at you. I'm just disappointed I didn't get to enjoy my hot girlfriend as much as I could have last night. ;) - Santana_

I grinned, my cheek still pressed against my knee. It was a little harder to reply like that, but I managed.

_Well I'm excited to treat my hot girlfriend tonight. ;) Are you just sitting around waiting for me to get out of class? _

I sat up and switched to my other leg.

_No, I'm across the street getting coffee. - Santana_

My phone buzzed immediately after I read the first message.

_And I bet I'm more excited. :D - Santana_

I smiled and shook my head.

_Is sex the only thing you think about?_

_Not at all. That's only like 50% of the time. :) - Santana_

I let out another laugh.

_And the other 50%? _

_The other 50% I'm thinking about how pretty you are. Or how lucky I am. :) Also, like. Work and school, or whatever. - Santana_

_Speaking of work and school, how was class? What kind of coffee did you get? _

_Caramel Macchiato. And don't even get me started on class. Ugh. - Santana_

My smile faded and was replaced by a small frown.

_Well. Now you're making me want to know. What's wrong, baby? _

I stared at my phone, expecting an immediate reply, but she didn't send anything right away. I leaned back from my stretching and pressed my back against the glass of the window. I thought about something Finn said the other day. About Santana's classes. I wondered if she did well at school or not. She was really smart, but Finn had made it sound like Santana just didn't care about it. She _was_ always trying to skip classes.

_My indep. study prof. is mad I'm not up to date with my schedule. I don't think he realizes I'd much rather spend time with you than work on singing and dancing or whatever. - Santana_

I tilted my head to the side. I knew Santana was a music major, but aside from playfully singing to me or along with Rachel and Quinn or jamming out to the radio, I'd never seen or heard Santana practicing like Rachel did. And I knew she went to dance classes, but since we'd started dating, it seemed like more of a casual thing than anything else. I wasn't even sure she ever took it that seriously to begin with.

_Why do you have to sing and dance? I thought you were a ReMu major?_

I sat and contemplated what Santana's reply would be like while I waited. ReMu was for recorded music. But Santana sometimes let me listen to her compositions, and they hardly ever included vocals. My phone buzzed and I looked down.

_Ugh, shit. It's... it's dumb. I propositioned last semester to do an independent study with three separate proposals, and my professor chose the one I didn't want to do. He apparently was on the committee the year I submitted my audition tape. - Santana_

I frowned and quickly tapped a response.

_Santana, you're being vague. What IS your independent study?_

I stared down at my phone. Quinn and Rachel had mentioned not knowing what it was before either. Santana was being really secretive about her class. There wasn't anything to be embarrassed about. Not to me, anyway. I was sure Quinn and Rachel wouldn't care either.

_I proposed to do a semester on stage performance. I was expecting to be allowed to work with live instrumentals or something, but... my professor liked the idea of using vocals instead. And like... actual performance. Remember how I told you ...I want to be a singer? I made this dumb decision to submit that as part of my proposal and the professor went for it. It's the whole reason I let Rachel and Quinn convince me to go to dance classes in the first place. - Santana_

I smiled weakly. I knew she was stressing out just by how much she was typing, but I couldn't help but be glad she was taking this class. How else would we have met? Would my roommate interview with them have gone differently had I not met them previously? I wondered how much Santana bumping into me at the studio affected their decision to let me room with them. It had all been up to Santana's opinion in the end.

_Isn't that what you like to do though? I mean. Isn't that what glee club was?_

From what I understood, glee club had been almost exactly that. Live musical performances. I didn't know why that would be bad. Or embarrassing. Or difficult.

_Yeah. Sure. Three years ago. When I did it every week for assignments. And competitions. And I was part of Cheerios. Ugh. - Santana_

_And you can't now? Why? _

_You'll laugh. - Santana._

_I promise I won't. When have I ever laughed at you?_

_...That one time. During Spring Break. You know. - Santana._

_?_

_After the shower...? That first time... - Santana _

_Omg, are you mad at me for laughing? I'm sorry!_

_I'm not mad! Just! Embarrassed. Shut up. - Santana_

_It was cute! You're cute! I didn't mean to laugh. I promise, whatever it is, I won't laugh._

Santana didn't reply immediately. I wasn't sure if it was because she was typing a lot or contemplating whether or not to tell me. I was definitely intrigued though, and I glanced up and saw I was wearing a large grin on my face. So much for not laughing. I forced myself to frown, but it didn't really help keep me from wanting to laugh.

_I'm out of shape, okay? I've become basically akin to a sloth. - Santana _

I bit my lip to stifle the laugh that bubbled in my throat. Santana wasn't out of shape. She was sexy and hot. She was a little lazy though. That was true.

_But a very, very cute sloth. Also sexy._

Another pause. Then...

_Ugh, no. Britt. I'm serious. Look, the most physical activity I've done since high school has been with you. In bed or otherwise... I'm just not cut out to dance and sing anymore. - Santana_

Any laughter that had threatened to escape my lips disappeared as my shoulders drooped. It wasn't like Santana to have such low self confidence. She could be shy and unsure, but she was being too hard on herself. She sang wonderfully. The best I'd ever heard. And she kept insisting she was bad at dancing, but when she relaxed or just had fun with it, her movements were really fluid. Santana had a natural sense of rhythm.

_I've told you before. I'll teach you to dance. It's what I enjoy doing... other than you, of course. ;) _

I hoped she wouldn't feel so bad. I would teach her. I already did. I liked dancing with Santana. Maybe more than anyone else.

_You'd want to help me with my indep. study? Also, wanky. - Santana_

I grinned.

_I want to help you with anything you want or need. Starting with tonight. ;)_

There was a pause after I replied to her text and I looked up to the clock. I frowned, because it was analog, and then I remembered I could just check the time on my phone. I looked back down and sighed. My break was almost over.

_OMG. Think up an excuse to get out of the rest of your class. I'm going to find you. - Santana_

I clenched my mouth tightly closed to keep from letting out a laugh, but a sharp, excited sound still managed to escape.

_I can't, this class is important. You have to wait. _

_No. Right now. There are spare rooms, right? We can pretend you're seeking after school help. ;) - Santana_

My eyes widened.

_Stop it. I have to go. You're bad. _

_The baddest. ;) I'll just sneak in and wait for you. In one of the classrooms. Naked. - Santana _

I rolled my eyes and pushed off the ground to stand up. The rest of my class had started to shuffle around when my instructor walked back into the room.

_Don't. Class. Ttyl. xoxo_

I snapped my phone shut and tossed it onto my bag as I moved to my position on the dance floor next to Madison.

"Who were you texting?" she whispered.

"My friend," I shrugged.

"Seems like more than a friend," Madison winked. "Is it the friends with benefits guy?"

"Shut up," I laughed. "You ready to show off your routine?"

"Bitch, please. I got this," Madison waved her hand at me and tossed her hair to the side.

* * *

><p>I unlocked my locker as I used my other hand to rub a towel against my damp hair. I usually waited until I was home to shower, but I didn't want to waste time at home when I had my date with Santana. She would probably try to sneak in the bathroom or something, and then the whole evening would be pointless. That was why I had withheld anything more than making out with Santana last night.<p>

I pulled out my clothes and picked up my phone from the dirty pile to toss it on the clean ones. I was just snapping on my bra when Madison shuffled over to her locker that was a few spaces down from mine.

"We owned that song," Madison said, sticking out her tongue at me.

"Yeah we did," I grinned. Madison had really improved. I was definitely impressed, especially because I'd seen the first shaky steps she had made to the song. She laughed and nudged me as we got changed, making comments about how the instructor reacted when I did this or how bad someone else's performance was and imitated them. I didn't really like criticizing anyone else's work without reason, but I smiled politely and nodded. I was just tugging my shirt over my head when I heard my phone buzz against the metal of the bench it was resting on behind me.

"Oh is this the 'friend'?" Madison said. I was tangled in my shirt still as I spun around. I managed to tug it down in time to see her grab my phone.

"Don't-" It came out as a bit of a strangled cry as I tried to weave my hands through my sleeves. It was too late, though. She opened my phone.

"Oh my god," Madison grinned and slapped her hand over her mouth. "This is such a dirty sext!"

"Stop it! Give it back," I insisted, reaching forward to grab my phone, but she twisted away and held it just out of reach.

"What's his name?" Madison said, twirling around and staggering a few steps back. She looked back at the screen and I couldn't do anything but watch as her smile faded. She clicked a button on the keypad.

"G-give it back," I stammered. I could barely hear my own voice. I doubt she heard me at all. Her hand dropped and she looked back at me. I'd gone my entire life dealing with mean words and taunting looks, but I'd never seen someone I considered a friend look at me with such contempt before. Any amount of strength I was trying to gather to insist she give me back my phone was lost along with my voice, and yet I couldn't drop my gaze. I watched as she took a small step backwards.

"Y-you're dating a _girl_?" Madison spat. The words stung harsher than they should have. It wasn't until that moment, the way she said it, that I really understood why Santana had been so afraid. I finally broke my gaze to look at the ground. I caught sight of the screen of my phone in her hand. She had my wallpaper up. If she hadn't put two and two together that Santana's name at the top of my text screen was a girl's, the picture in the background alone would confirm the nature of our relationship.

"Give it back," I heard myself repeat. I didn't even recall willing myself to do so. Madison looked down at my phone and held it up a little before pulling it away again.

"This is... you..." Madison looked around at the row of lockers before shaking my phone at me. "This is the _girls_ locker room. We... you." Her nose wrinkled and she stepped back.

"It's disgusting."

I froze. I didn't even know it was possible for my body to lock up more than it was. I saw as Madison's eyes widened. The voice that spoke hadn't been hers. It came from behind me.

"So you've been perving on us, Pierce?" The voice was Avery's. I didn't have to look to know that. I don't think I could have if I wanted to. And I definitely didn't want to see the look she was drilling into the back of my skull.

"I haven't- I'm not-"

"Not what? Then you just fool around with anyone?" Tara laughed. "I told you she was a slut."

"P-please just give me my phone," I said to Madison. If I didn't reply to them, maybe it wouldn't get any worse. I could just ignore them.

"When did your allegiance switch again, Madison? I knew you ditched us after midterms, but I thought you just wanted the grade," Avery said. "Just like Jenna."

"Maybe she and Pierce...?" Tara snickered.

"N-no!" Madison shook her head aggressively. My phone clattered to the ground as she held up her hands and backed up. I hesitated and then tried to lunge for it, but I barely grazed my fingertips against it when I was pushed back. Tara staggered upright and I twisted up to see Avery bend down to grab it.

"Yeah? Then who-" Avery flipped the phone open. Her expression dropped and then immediately cracked into a wide grin. Not the nice kind. She twisted and leaned into Tara as she let out an ugly laugh.

"Oh, we've all been had," Avery laughed. "Really, Pierce?"

"You're fucking the bitch from the bar?" Tara scoffed. "This is her, right?"

Tara had an unpleasant grin plastered on her face as she looked up at Avery and then to Madison.

"Oh, it's her," Avery said, staring across at Madison. "Right, Madison?"

"Wh-what?" I swiftly looked from them to Madison. The movement made the tears that had swelled up in my eyes shift enough to fall. Madison avoided my gaze, but kept her head up as she stared down Avery.

"She doesn't know?" Tara grinned. "Oh this is so good."

"Know what?" I said. It came out smaller than a whisper, but I knew they heard me, because they laughed again. "Know what?" I said louder.

"Why don't you tell her, Madison?" Avery smiled. Madison's lips pursed impossibly tighter and she remained silent.

"No?" Tara said. "Why not? It's not like you're really friends."

"She used you," Avery said. "To improve her grades. She ditched you when you started sucking, and came crawling back when you pulled that whatever that stunt was for your midterm. Guess she forgot to mention that we're all acquainted with your imported _whore_."

When Avery said that last word, she shook my phone in her hand. I winced and felt my nose do that thing where it felt like it was flaring up but also burning. My eyes stung with tears I tried to keep back, but they just kept falling.

"S-santana isn't... Just give me back my phone!" I shouted. I hadn't realized, but I slammed my locker closed. Maybe I thought it would make me look intimidating, but instead, Avery laughed again.

"Sure," she said. For half a second, and I have no idea why, I actually thought she was going to give it back. The phone left her hands, and I felt like I moved in slow motion to try and catch it as it was hurled to the ground. I missed, of course, and staggered to a stop just feet in front of Avery as it crashed into the ground. I clenched my eyes closed as it clattered. I looked down. No. Shattered.

"What... what gives you the right to treat me like this?" I asked, staring down at the destroyed remnants of my phone. The screen was black and bits of plastic or glass surrounded it in tiny shards. Even though it was beyond repair, I still flinched when Avery took a step forward and it gave a sickening crunch beneath her foot. I felt body tremble, and I wasn't sure what the cause was. Fear or anger? My eyes slid slowly up to meet hers. They were dark and cold and hidden beneath her brow. She glowered at me and I took a step back.

"You think you actually _mean_ something?" Avery said as she advanced towards me. "You think you're this poster child, untouchable just because you're a junior, you're entitled to the grades and the jobs and the attention. Some of us _actually_ worked to get to where we are. "

"You're not special. You aren't exceptional. You won't amount to anything more then a back up dancer, if that. We all know how you got into this school," she sneered. She kept moving forward until I backed up into the bench. I inhaled sharply as hot tears rolled down my cheeks. I wasn't Santana. I was confronted by the same girls she had and I didn't have the words or the strength to fight back.

Tara stepped forward and I glanced back to Madison. Her brow was furrowed and she avoided my gaze. I looked up at Avery when she closed the distance between us and felt a shudder run up my spine when she leaned forward.

"You. Are. _Nothing_."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This chapter was about 20k in length. Due to a discrepancy between my betas and a formatting issue of the continuation of the last scene of Part One, we decided it would be a good idea to break up the chapter. That means you'll get another update swiftly and I have time to edit the second half of the chapter, draw, and write the next one.**

**There are no songs for this chapter; the ones I have chosen are for the second half. **

**P.S. - To Carol, I read and cherish every review, and used to try to reply to them all. I feel bad that I don't reply to them anymore; I got caught up with finals and now it's really hard to find time to do so. I still read them. I just don't really check my email, so I have to actually be logged on and refresh the page to know that I get messages. I use my tumblr most often.**


	33. Why Don't You Love Me: Heartbreak

_"What does this mean?" I looked up from the sheet of paper I held in my hands. "Is it the number of classes I've taken or the credits?" _

_"It _says_ credits, Brittany," Jenna rolled her eyes as she passed me in the living room to the kitchen. "Obviously, it means credits."_

_"I don't understand why they can't look up my transcript themselves," I said, furrowing my brow as I stared down at the application. "Isn't it all on file?"_

_"It's just a form, Brittany," Jenna scowled from the kitchen. "They don't have time to look up every student. You're not an exception. Stop being so stupid and just fill out the paperwork like everyone else."_

_I dropped the paper in my hands and looked towards the kitchen. She was beyond the door now and I couldn't see her and she couldn't see me, but I stared anyway. I wasn't neglecting the paperwork and I wasn't asking for special exception treatment. I just didn't understand the application. Alright, so maybe I was requesting special permission to participate in a Senior level class, but Jenna didn't have to dismiss me like that. She was the one who said I should apply when we worked on her routine for her thesis assignment._

I stumbled back, pulling my leg away from the locker room bench. I had trouble maneuvering, but I kept moving away. My chest heaved up and down. I felt dizzy and hot as I clenched my hand into a fist. Tears blurred my vision, everything was hazy and a mess of colors.

_"She put her vest on inside out."_

_"Is she that dumb?"_

_"It's the same uniform we wear everyday. How on earth does she mess that up?"_

_I hustled down the busy stairwell, brushing past girls in identical outfits. I rushed as quickly as I could towards the bathroom, hugging my folder tightly to my chest to avoid it being torn or bent as I dove through the sea of girls. Once I was shut behind the closed door of one of the stalls, I slammed my back against the wall and curled into myself as I slid down. _

_I couldn't get what my teacher said out of my head. I'd failed the exam. She'd told me I could retake the test, but I'd have to get the old exam signed first. Otherwise, I'd need to take the whole class all over again._

_I banged my head back against the wall as tears streamed down my face. I had just transferred here. My dad spent all that money, and yet all the results were the same. I was still flunking my classes. The worst part of it was this was my favorite class. It was the only thing I was good at. How could I fail dance?_

Was Avery right about me; was I really worthless? No matter how hard I tried or fought, in the end, all I ever did was fail. I wasn't smart. A lot of things confused me. People had trouble understanding me and I always misunderstood other people. I thought Madison was my friend.

The room felt like it was spinning. Or maybe my body was just reeling. I was trying my best to steady myself, but it was all just overwhelming. Maybe I wasn't anything at all. Just a shadow of a person, of a dream, but never destined to make it anywhere or be close to anyone. Why would anyone care about me? Why would _Santana_?

_"If you had any superpower, what would it be?" I asked, running my fingers in a circular motion on the silky smooth, caramel skin of Santana's back._

_"I don't know," Santana peeled her face off of my neck and smiled down at me. "Give me a second to think about it? What would you want?" She lowered and kissed my cheek._

_"I think I'd want the power to find anything I ever lost," I said. "I lose things a lot."_

_"That would be really useful," Santana murmured. "Like keys and stuff. Or… my underwear."_

_"Why would I want to find your underwear?" I grinned. "I think I like it lost."_

_"I think I like it lost too," she licked her lips and I strained forward to snatch her lips in mine. She murmured something, so I pulled back._

_"What?"_

_"Can my super power just be amazing sex?" Santana smirked._

_"That's not a super power," I giggled. _

_"Mm," she hummed. "Are you saying I'm already amazing?"_

_"You're fishing," I shook my head and laughed. "But yes."_

_"Alright, fine." Santana sat up a little and looked down at my seriously. "I'd want to be able to fly."_

_"Why's that?"_

_"So if I fall, I don't die," she grinned. "That's the scary thing about heights."_

_"If you fell, I'd catch you," I said, placing my palm against her cheek._

_"Then I don't need a super power," she cooed as she smiled down at me. _

_"You wouldn't want anything that makes you special?"_

_"You make me feel special," Santana mumbled. "I may act like a bitch, but I'm not greedy."_

_"…Really?" _

_"Of course," Santana said, furrowing her brow as she gazed down at me. Her expression softened as her mouth spread into a smile. "If I was greedy, I would lock you away and never let anyone else enjoy your company."_

_I nudged the arm that she had used to prop herself up with my elbow and she wavered for a second before giggling._

_"I meant… that I…"_

_"You make me feel special," Santana repeated and lowered her lips to mine. "Among many other amazing things."_

_I smiled against her lips and she kissed me long and gently before taking a deep breath through her nose and pulling back._

_"I take it back," Santana smiled. "I want a super power."_

_"What's that?"_

_"I want to be able to make someone else feel as good as they make me feel," she whispered. _

_"Still not a super power," I mumbled in her ear. _

"-any? Hey, Britt?"

My brow furrowed and I staggered back against one of the lockers. I thought for a second one of them was calling my name, but why would any of them care?

"Shit, these are just like the lockers at McKinley," the voice echoed. "Britt!"

I blinked and looked up. Beyond Avery and Tara, Santana was frozen with her hand placed at the end of a row of lockers. She stared at me, wide-eyed, and her eyes flicked down to the ground where my phone was before her brow furrowed.

"Oh hell _fucking_ no," she roared. She charged forward, but I scrambled up, pushing past Avery and Tara to catch her before she reached them. I was still breathing heavily, but I pushed all my weight against her. I didn't want her to fight them, but I felt so weak, I could barely keep her back. I ended up slumping into her for support more than anything else.

She had started shouting. I didn't even know if it was Spanish or English. I didn't hear what she said, I just hung in her arms and pressed against her. I was mumbling something. My brow furrowed and I strained to figure out my own words and thoughts.

"Stop, please, Santana," I muttered. "Don't. Please don't fight them. I'm not... It's not worth it."

"What happened? Why is your phone-? You _bitche_s! I told you. I fuckin' told you," Santana shouted.

"What? That you two are _fucking_? I think I would have remembered that," Avery spat back. Santana stopped struggling against me and I felt her whole body tense. For a second, it felt like she was going to pull away, but then she jolted forward and I had to grind my foot in the ground to keep her back.

"You know what? Screw it," Santana growled. "You mess with _my_ girlfriend. You mess with me. Brittany, let me go!"

"Santana, stop," I pleaded. I knew I was still crying, but I tried to sound coherent. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I don't fucking care," Santana shouted. "You bitches are dead!"

Santana kept struggling. Nothing I said was going to deter her, except-

"You're going to get _me_ in trouble," I shouted. I didn't care about that, but I knew that she did. She didn't want me to get mixed up in a fight. I didn't know what the repercussions of her fighting would be, but I'm sure her first guess was something about me and my scholarship. She stopped struggling immediately.

"Let go," she mumbled. "Let me go, come on." Santana twisted and I released my hold on her. She grabbed my arm and pulled me around her as she stomped forward and grabbed my bag. Santana took an aggressive step towards Avery, forcing her to stumble back. Instead of attacking Avery like we were all expecting, Santana dipped down and scooped up the remains of my cell phone.

Santana glared up at Avery. I think if Santana hadn't already proven she could take them, Avery might have spoken up. Instead, she took in a sharp breath and stared back as Santana took backwards steps towards me. When she reached me, she twisted around and grabbed my hand, pulling me along with her as she stormed to the exit. I twisted and caught sight of Madison for just a second. Her mouth hung open and she stared after me. I didn't have time to discern the look in her eye, but it didn't really matter.

"S-Santana..."

"I don't care what happened," Santana said when we got to the elevator and she slammed her palm against the down button. The doors sprang open and she dragged me inside, pulling me into a tight hug. "Just tell me you're okay."

"I-I," I stammered, then buried my face in the crook of her neck. I felt my knees shake and it was everything I could not to just crumple to the floor. Her arms tightened around me and she kissed my forehead.

"I-I'm okay." I gasped for breath. "I'm okay..."

Santana didn't speak. She just held her arms around me as my body shook and shuddered against her. I didn't notice the doors close or that she hit the down button. I barely noticed anything as she guided me along. It wasn't until she was helping me into her car that I started to breathe properly and my head started to clear enough that I could see straight. She helped me sit down in the passanger seat and placed my bag in my lap. Then she gripped the sides of my face, running her thumbs over my cheeks beneath my eyes to wipe away tears. Then she leaned in and pressed the softest kiss to my lips.

"I've got you," Santana murmured. "You'll be okay."

"S-sa... S'tana," I sobbed. I leaned in, pushing my forehead to hers as I curled my fingers around the back of her neck. "M-Madison... she... my phone..."

"Baby," Santana murmured, stroking her hands through my hair. "Brittany, sweetie. Just breathe. Okay? Just breathe."

I nodded and let out a soft hiccup. She kissed my nose and my cheek and my forehead as I caught my breath. I just clung to her and waited. Waited for the world to stop spinning and my heart to stop pounding.

"She... saw my phone," I shook my head. "And I... I don't know, she just... about us... My phone, Santana..."

"Look," Santana held her hands firmly to my shoulders. "Screw them. Those girls... they're not worth your time."

"B-but Madison-"

"Is a conniving _bitch_, Brittany," Santana said harshly. I snapped up and stared into her eyes. She let out a small huff like she was trying to smile at me, but she was too upset to.

"God," Santana rolled her eyes. She bit her lip and shook her head. "I _knew_ she was one of those girls."

"W-what?" I stammered.

"Huh?" Santana looked up at me.

"One of...? Wait." My brow furrowed. "You knew who Madison was? That she... she was one of those girls? From that night at Lucky Charms?" I could hear my voice taper off into a whine.

"Britt-"

"No." I shook my head and pressed my palm against her shoulder to push her back. "No... why didn't you tell me?"

"Brittany, calm down," Santana frowned. "It's not like I lied-"

"But you did," I said, pushing her back with a little more force.

Santana snapped her head back. "I-"

"You didn't tell me. That's the same thing," I said quickly. I scrambled to kick my feet back out of her car and she fell backwards onto her butt as I stood. I gripped the strap to my bag tightly in my hands.

"Brittany-" I heard her scramble up.

"I'm not," I announced as I managed to catch my footing. I didn't dare turn to look at her, because fresh tears were swelling up. "I'm not _stupid_. I'm... I'm not."

"I never said that," Santana breathed quietly. I heard her foot scrape against the pavement as she stepped towards me.

"But you think that. Just like everyone else does," I snapped. "It... it always starts with a _lie_."

"I didn't lie to you," Santana insisted. I felt her fingertips graze my arm and I tore it away.

"You weren't honest with me!" I shouted. "It's.. I-It's the same thing."

"That doesn't make any sense," Santana exhaled. She tried to wrap her hand around me as I felt her move closer, but I turned and glanced back at her.

"Why? Because I'm too dumb to put two and two together?" I snapped.

"You're putting words in my mouth," Santana protested and her brow creased. "Why...Why are you making me out to be the bad guy?"

I stared hard at the ground. My chest heaved up and down and I knew I was getting light-headed again.

"Maybe... maybe you're just the same," I said quietly. Santana flinched and then turned her head to the side, tilting it towards me as if she hadn't heard what I said properly.

"Brittany...? You don't mean that..."

"Why should I wait to find out?"

"To find out _what_, Brittany?" Santana whined and let her hands fall limply at her sides.

"That this..." I threw my hand out in front of me and gestured to her. I pulled back my hand and shook my head. "That it's just a façade. I've known you a month. Why should I wait around for the real you to show up? The one all your friends know?"

"You've had a crappy day. Let's get you home. We'll get really shitty food that's terrible for us and watch cartoons all day. You can vent and we'll just tough it out, okay? You can't let this one thing get to you," Santana said quietly.

"_One thing_?" I snapped. "I deal with this bullying all the time Santana; I've dealt with this my _entire life! _And you want me just to _let it go_? I'm tired of being picked on, I'm tired of everyone letting me down. I've gone my whole life without your support. Why would I need it now?"

I took several steps backwards until my heel smacked against the curb of the sidewalk. I stumbled and caught myself before I fell. I fought back tears and kept my face as stern as possible, looking her over once more. She gaped at me and took a step away from her car towards me. I quickened my backwards pace until I twisted around. My feet felt unsteady beneath me, but I kept pressing forward. I heard Santana's car door close and then the clack of her heels behind me.

"Brittany," Santana called out.

"Leave me alone!" I clenched my eyes tightly shut and then started to run. I didn't know why I was running, or why my eyes were closed. I opened them and found myself tearing towards the park across from the Juilliard building. Instead of crossing the street, I veered to my right, nearly smacking into people on the bustling street.

"Brittany!" I heard Santana shouting after me.

"Go away!" I yelled back. I kept rushing forward, pushing past people as I moved. I didn't have a plan or a goal or a destination. I just had to put as much space between me and everything else. The Juilliard building. Santana. I had to get away before she caught up.

It was easy to get lost in the crowd. I kept my head down and pressed on, and soon enough, her voice vanished. The sea of people swallowed me up, pulled me away, and yet I'd never felt so alone before in my life.

* * *

><p>Santana staggered to a stop. She had kept her eyes trained on golden locks that had disappeared amongst the crowd as she tried to keep up, but Brittany was gone. She stood at the edge of a crosswalk, unsure which direction to look or turn, knowing that the only direction Brittany had not gone was back. Back to her.<p>

"Brittany..." Her voice was weak and her head snapped left and right as she bit her lower lip. She ran her hands up through her hair and exhaled sharply. She flicked her hand beneath her eyelid and sniffed as she shook her head. The signal changed for the crosswalk and she made her way across it quickly, all the while looking every direction as she walked.

The first place she looked was outside the Juilliard building. She reasoned that Brittany wouldn't go back inside, but it was the closest location and one of only a handful of places she could expect to find Brittany. She swore under her breath in English and Spanish as she searched the exterior of the building before crossing the street again to Damrosch Park. She wandered around, along the empty rows of seats as she made her way down to the equally empty amphitheater. She leaned against the stage and let out a loud, exasperated sigh, finally letting herself shed a few tears. She quickly wiped them away. Santana Lopez wasn't too proud to cry. She just didn't want to let it stop her from finding Brittany.

She withdrew her phone and quickly unlocked it. She paused over Brittany's contact information and then tapped the number. She held the phone up to her ear in vain. It went straight to voicemail as she expected. There was no way that cell phone survived whatever happened. She tore her phone away from her face and looked up to the sky.

"Fuck," she breathed. "Where did you go?"

* * *

><p>The door to the apartment slammed shut, and Quinn and Rachel snapped up from their respective seats on the couch and recliner. Santana kicked off her shoes, fumbling a bit with the second shoe as she balanced on one foot.<p>

"God, fucking-" Santana growled before bending forward and tearing the shoe off and tossing it a little hard amongst the array of shoes the girls had neatly organized by the door.

"Santana, are you okay?" Rachel said, closing the folder she had in her hands as she sat up.

"Do I fucking look okay?" Santana spat. Rachel took in a breath and held it as she looked Santana up and down. Her hair was a bit disheveled and her makeup was smudged. Her cheeks and eyes were a bit red; she had definitely been crying.

"...What's wrong?" Quinn said, immediately shooting up from her chair. "Where's Brittany?"

"Gone," Santana said, but it came out as a high pitched squeak as she waved her hand in the air weakly. "I don't... I don't know." Her lower lip started to tremble. "I looked... I... everywhere."

Quinn quickly wrapped her arms around Santana and tugged her into a tight hug.

"Santana, it's okay," Quinn cooed. "We'll find her. It's okay. Rachel, can you call her phone?"

"It's b-broken," Santana shook her head, tightening her hands around Quinn's back and burying her face in the crook of the blonde's neck.

"What?" Quinn didn't mean to snap back, but she did. "Okay, okay, just calm down. Come here."

Quinn backed up to the couch and let Santana curl up next to her. She let her hand fall over the Latina's hair, stroking it gently as she hummed softly.

"It's okay. Just tell me what happened, okay?"

"Brittany... those girls," Santana started. "The ones from her class?"

It was shaky, but Santana managed to retell as much as she could. That she'd found Brittany in the locker room with the three girls from the bar harassing her and that she managed to drag Brittany away, but they got in a fight and Brittany stormed off.

"What did you say that made her so upset?" Quinn said, furrowing her brow. "You two are like peas in a pod."

"I... she doesn't trust that I won't do the same," Santana murmured. "That I won't end up like any of her other friends."

Quinn exhaled a small laugh of disbelief and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I promised I wouldn't, but that's... that's really _silly_."

"It's not," Santana shook her head. "She's lost every person she's ever held close to her. She's not stupid. I am."

"I'm sorry, but in the context of what you've told me, Santana, none of this is your fault," Quinn frowned.

"That's just it, isn't it?" Santana scooted away from Quinn and held her hand up to her forehead. "The context."

"Santana-" Rachel murmured.

"How can she trust me? I'm barely honest with myself. And her. And not at all with either of you," Santana sighed. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling before letting her hand drop.

"What are you talking about?" Quinn furrowed her brow.

"You know in glee club, we were always talking about how we were the underdogs, and what set us apart - what made us different - made us special?" Santana let her hands fold together as she stared at the ground. "Rachel... I told you to get a nose job. And Quinn, you changed your whole identity when you came to McKinley."

Santana let out a soft chuckle, and the way she laughed held a wave of self-pity to it that kept her friends silent.

"I've sabotaged almost _every_ relationship either of you have ever had," Santana said weakly. "I did it all under the guise of being a bitch... and I don't even... I don't even like _boys_."

Santana glanced up at her friends after a moment of awkward silence. She saw as Rachel clenched and unclenched her jaw and then as Quinn just sat there, blinking, as though she'd narrowly avoided being hit by a truck.

"...I'm sorry," Santana murmured. "For everything I've done to you two. But I just realized today that... that hiding who I am and what makes me happy is just stupid. And it hurts the person I care about most way more than it hurts me."

"Wait," Quinn waved her hand in the air weakly. She gripped the couch cushion beneath her to hold herself steady. "Does that mean...?"

"Brittany is my girlfriend," Santana said softly. "I know... that that is something you guys might need time to process, but I need to find her-"

Rachel shot forward and wrapped her arms around Santana, gripping her in a tight hug. Santana's eyes got huge in surprise and she jerked back from the sudden force. She looked over to Quinn, and the blonde gave her a soft smile and nodded weakly before wrapping her arm around Santana.

"What happened to your hug notices?" Santana scowled. Rachel frowned, but then a hint of a smile crept onto Santana's lips before vanishing quickly.

"So you're a bonehead and you pissed off your girlfriend," Quinn murmured.

"You said I didn't do anything wrong like five minutes ago," Santana protested under the weight of her friends.

"I take it back," Quinn said as she gave Santana a tight squeeze before withdrawing back to her initial position on the couch. "Knowing you, you said something wrong."

"That's not fair," Santana murmured, pressing her hands against Rachel's shoulders to pry her off.

"I'm so happy for you, Santana," Rachel said quietly.

"Get up," Quinn said, gesturing for the both of them to move. "End the pity party, we need to find Brittany. I don't care what you say Santana, I'm allowed to think Brittany is being stupid too."

"Don't call her stupid," Santana protested as Quinn made her way to the closet and threw on her jacket.

"I'll think what I want until you two make up," Quinn said as she grabbed her keys. "Rachel, call Mike, we're going to the dance studio."

* * *

><p>Santana was silent most of the car ride over. Aside from explaining what little more she knew about the situation with the added context of Brittany being her girlfriend, the only useful information came to light was that Brittany's cell phone was beyond repair, and even then, they already knew that. Quinn would occasionally glance at Santana from the driver's seat, observing how the Latina curled into herself and had her cheek pressed to the window. She'd grabbed her NYU hoodie and pulled it over the skin tight dress she'd been wearing in preparation for her date that evening with Brittany. It was an odd combination that was so out of character for Santana; she usually either dressed up or not at all.<p>

"We're going to find her," Quinn said reassuringly. "She's 21, not a child."

"I know," Santana murmured. "Just the sooner... the better."

"Why would she be at the dance studio?" Rachel asked quietly.

"Well, if you know anywhere else she might be, by all means, let us know," Santana snapped with a scowl.

"She's just trying to help," Quinn said as she parked in front of the studio.

"I know. I know," Santana shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm just really frustrated, Rachel."

Rachel nodded and unbuckled her seatbelt before she scrambled out of the backseat. Santana slowly stepped out of the car. She wasn't as much in a rush because she knew that Mike would have called them if Brittany had shown up by now. But there was another reason for them to visit the dance studio.

"Give me a second," Mike said from behind the desk in the office of the studio. Quinn and Rachel were leaning against the wall while Santana was slumped in the seat in front of him. He dug through the filing cabinet to his side before retrieving a thin, manila folder. The label read _Brittany S. Pierce_ and the sheer sight of it it caused Santana's chest to tighten.

"Sorry, we don't have any computer system," Mike shrugged. "Our boss is kind of old school."

"Just tell me what you've got, boy Chang," Santana growled.

"I'm worried too, you know, Santana. Brittany isn't just your... friend," Mike said cautiously as he glanced up at Quinn while he flipped the folder open. There were a few forms that were neatly scrawled on by Brittany's loopy handwriting. Santana took the sheets from Mike after he glanced over them. Mostly payroll information that was unnecessary to their current plight. He paused at a half sheet of paper that had several lines of text crossed out with smaller letters squeezed in the remaining space. Santana set the sheet she held in her hand down and reached for it when Mike handed it to her.

"It's her emergency contact sheet," Mike said. "I guess someone named... Jenna used to be her emergency contact?" He pulled out his phone and started to tap on the screen, but Santana held up her hand.

"What do you mean 'used to'?" Rachel asked.

"Jenna was her old roommate. She disconnected her phone," Santana told Mike as she stared down at the sheet of paper. Her hand was a bit shaky and she leaned back in her seat as she set the paper back down on the desk.

"...she changed her emergency contact to _me_," Santana said softly. "Why would she...?"

"Well, you're..." Mike glanced to Quinn and Rachel and then tilted his head.

"Mike, they know," Santana waved her hand carelessly.

"Oh," Mike sat up a little straighter as he looked to Quinn and Rachel. "Thank god. Brittany can be really inappropriat-"

"We are not discussing what Brittany may or may not have said to you," Santana said shortly. "And I wouldn't be so relieved over that anyway. I'm not even sure where we stand."

"Wait, what?" Mike jerked back in surprise.

"No, you hold on," Quinn said, holding her hand out. "Mike knew?"

"...And Tina," Santana replied. "But it doesn't matter, she doesn't want anything to do with me."

"Then why bother looking for her?" Rachel said loudly as she slapped her palms on the desk. Santana jumped in surprise. Both Quinn and Mike looked similarly startled.

"The Santana I know may have taken a vacation over the past few years, but she doesn't give up," Rachel snapped. "You told me once I wasn't allowed to play victim. Well, Santana Lopez, you're not allowed to have a pity party either. Brittany adores you."

"As inspiring as your enthusiasm is, Rachel, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, but how the fuck would you know?" Santana sighed.

Rachel's brow furrowed and she exhaled harshly through her nose while her lips pursed.

"Because I spent half of yesterday stringing up lights with Brittany for you and your stupid date," Rachel scowled. "Why won't just admit you're madly in love with her and put the poor girl out of her misery?"

Santana snapped up and gazed directly at Rachel as if she'd just been slapped in the face. Her brow was furrowed slightly and her eyes were wide as her lips parted. Rachel huffed loudly and turned to storm out of the office, but Santana caught her arm.

"Where?" Santana demanded.

"I thought you gave up?" Rachel said as she wrenched her arm free.

"Rachel, _where_?" Santana stood up.

"Admit it first," Rachel said, jabbing her index finger at Santana's chest.

"You..." Santana growled. "You want me to come out to you and admit I love my girlfriend in the same day? Fine. I _love_ her, okay?" Santana's face grew bright red and she looked like she was going to bite Rachel's head off. "Where is she?"

"...back at the apartment," Rachel said, shrinking back.

"She's been home the whole time?" Santana shouted. "And you didn't think to mention that?"

"I doubt she was home," Rachel said defensively as Quinn stepped forward and tried to stretch her hand protectively between them. "I just know where the date was."

"You fucking... ugh," Santana spun around and threw open the door to the office as she stormed out.

"Can I just say, while I'm aware Santana is very upset, that I'm am _really_ excited by how dramatic all of this is?" Rachel admitted with a small clap of her hands.

"This isn't a _movie_, Rachel," Quinn grumbled as she brushed past the brunette to follow after Santana.

"I know the difference," Rachel frowned and looked back at Mike. He gave her a weak smile and shrugged.

"I'm not going to stick around for how this all blows up," Mike shook his head. "But if Brittany needs someone to talk to when all is said and done, one of you let her know she can call me."

"You really care about Brittany, huh?" Rachel smiled.

"I'm surprised how much it seems to elude Brittany and Santana," Mike shook his head. "That we all care. About both of them."

* * *

><p>I stood at the edge of the rooftop of the apartment building. I didn't know until yesterday that our complex was only three stories tall. I guess I'd never really looked up when I crossed the fire escape. I looked down at the battered phone in my hand. The top half was barely hanging on its remaining hinge. I'd gripped it so tight that one of the sharpened corners had dug into my palm and left a deep impression.<p>

Today had probably been the worst day of my life. That includes the time that I thought Lord Tubbington had a heart attack and we had to take him to the pet hospital. It turned out to be a false alarm and he'd just gone comatose in a nap, but I'd been really worried. Or the day I found out my parents really moved out of Lima because of my bad grades and not because my dad got a promotion. He actually took a pay cut just so that I could go to a high school I wouldn't flunk out of.

I felt terrible. I had one of those headaches you get when you cry so much that it feels like all this pressure is built up right between your nose and your eyeballs. Not just that; I felt disgusting. Not because of what Avery and Tara and Madison had said. It was hard not to be down on myself after everything they had done, but what I felt the worst about was how I'd spoken to Santana.

I tried to justify myself. That's what I'd been doing for the past few hours. At first I just wandered aimlessly, but then I took a wrong turn down a bad street and ended up tracking down the subway station to get myself back to the apartment. I was really surprised to find the apartment empty, but at the same time it was a little bit of a relief. I didn't want to talk to Santana right now. I couldn't.

I just kept replaying in my head how I'd felt a day or two ago compared to now. My heart had swelled so big just at the thought that Santana told Quinn and Rachel about us. And I'd thought that maybe they were talking about me because Santana wanted everything to be perfect between us and she was seeking out advice or permission or something from her friends. It had been stupid to jump to conclusions like that, but everyone else thought I was stupid. So maybe I was. It just hit me hard when I realized on my way home that Santana hadn't been talking about our relationship. How could she when she wanted to keep us a secret? No, she must have been discussing Madison with them, unless there were more things she was keeping from me. God. I couldn't bear it if there was more.

I bowed my head down and stared at my feet. It was foolish to rush so blindly into a relationship with Santana. I hardly knew anything about her. Who she'd been before she met me. What the deal was with her and Puck. That she could have very well been one of the girls at my high school that bullied me. I closed my eyes.

Stupid. Those were just excuses. I'd been comfortable alone with Santana more than enough times. I could have asked her about those things any time I wanted. I wasn't upset about the unknown aspects of my relationship with her. I was always excited about those things. To learn and explore them. But now, it was like I had no ground to stand on. A step forward was just as dangerous as a step backwards, and all paths lead to the same destination. No matter what I did, in the end, I would lose. It was inevitable. Not once in my life had I made a lasting impression on someone that made them want to stick around for me.

I opened my eyes and was greeted by the unpleasant sight of my cell phone again. No. It was better to stop while I was ahead. Catch myself before I spiralled out of control and got caught up in whatever web of lies and desperation that awaited me. It was almost certain that Santana and I would end up like that, based on my luck and every crappy romance movie I'd ever seen. Maybe I had avoided relationships in the past because I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it. Because I knew if I fell any deeper into my relationship with Santana, I just wouldn't be okay if she broke my heart. I wondered if it was crueler or just selfish that I was breaking hers.

I snorted. Even if I did, I was replaceable.

The worst part was, I wasn't even that upset that Madison turned out to be a terrible friend. She had always been flaky and judgemental and untrustworthy. And Jenna hadn't been that great of a friend either. When it came down to it, I settled for the friendships I had with them because they were the only people willing to _be _my friends. I had found so much better in the month I'd spent with Santana than I had in a lifetime. How and why had I been so vulnerable to her? I should have known better. She had me hooked at the first glance and I'd been falling ever since. It was so simple and effortless, and yet simultaneously the most complicated I'd ever felt before.

I shook my head. Thinking about it over and over wasn't going to sway my decision. I'd made up my mind. I could take it back, but I refused to. I was done being at the mercy of everyone else. If my heart had to break, it would do so on my own terms. Then I'd know where the pieces fell and maybe it wouldn't be so hard to pick them all back up again. I clenched my fist tighter around the phone in my hand and gritted my teeth. Why was it so hard to convince myself of this?

I knew why. It was because all I kept picturing was Santana. Dressed in her favorite clothes in anticipation for a date I'd spent days building up, standing before me and trembling with fear, asking me why. _Why_ was I pushing her away and _why_ was I refusing to take that chance and be happy with her? My fist balled tighter still around my phone. Her and her pretty face with her beautiful brown eyes and caramel skin. Her voice angelic despite the way it cracked when she cried for me to come back.

In the end, it wasn't because of Santana at all that I hurled my phone over the side of the rooftop. It was my own cowardice and stupidity that made me believe that throwing an already broken cell phone would change a damn thing. Still angry, I tore my bag from my shoulder and rummage through it, determined to find the rest of my phone. I pushed my hand around in the bag and felt something sharp jab at my finger. I withdrew my hand for a second and then stuffed it back inside to grab the handful of photo booth pictures I carried in my purse everywhere and crumble them tightly in my fist. In moments, they were torn and ripped and pulled apart, and I didn't even recall doing anything but standing there feeling forlorn and dejected moments before.

I stared blankly at my feet where the pile of glossy, torn bits of paper remained. I kicked my foot angrily and then spun to look at the rest of the rooftop. They had yet to be turned on, because it was still light enough out that it was unnecessary, but lights were strung all over the rooftop. They were the same star-shaped Christmas lights Santana and I used to hang over our mattress fort. Rachel had helped me set the whole thing up for a moonlit picnic under the night sky. I think if I hadn't been so distraught, I would have felt worse for Rachel when I grabbed a fist full of star lights and yanked down, but I reasoned that no one would mind. There wouldn't be a date here tonight anyway.

After I'd sufficiently stomped around the rooftop tearing at the lights and kicking bits of paper and the picnic blanket, I stood still to look at my handiwork. Ruined. Good. Like everything else. My chest heaved up and down as I glared at my imperfect picturesque scene.

I still felt like shit.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe all this time you led me to believe that I was a wimp for not wanting to use the fire escape for any other purpose than a <em>fire<em>, and yet you're the one that's terrified of heights." Rachel stood just behind Santana on the ladder that led up to the rooftop.

"Will you please stop talking?" Santana snapped. "It's hard enough to move at a glacial pace when my legs feel like jello. Your voice is making me cringe in pain."

"Good to know you can still hate on Rachel when you're scared shitless," Quinn said, glancing back at her. "Hurry up, Santana. The faster you move, the less time you need to think about your impending doom of falling to your death."

"Shut up," Santana shouted, clinging desperately to the rail. Quinn managed to move the last few steps to the roof, and Santana stared up after her.

"Oh." Quinn's voice was soft, but they all heard it.

"Is she there?" Santana called, pulling herself up and emerging to the rooftop a few seconds later. When she had steadied her footing she looked up and saw just what made Quinn's jaw drop.

"I take it she's not here-" Rachel said and froze as her head peeked up over the side of the wall. She took in the sight before her, with all the torn down lights clinging desperately to the ones that were still suspended in the air. She recovered quickly and scrambled up the remaining steps to join Santana and Quinn at inspecting the date site.

"We spent all that time working on it," Rachel murmured. "Who would do this?"

"I think the answer is obvious, Rachel," Quinn said, leaning down to scoop up a torn piece of paper. It was crumbled and she forced her finger over it to flatten it before she looked at the image that was printed upon it. It was easy enough to make out Brittany's face pressed to Santana's cheek as she gave the camera an excited and yet surprised look, even if it was ripped and tattered. Rachel leaned forward and glanced over Quinn's shoulder at the picture while Santana slowly stepped across the rooftop.

Santana traced her fingers along the remaining lights that hung in the air. She held still a moment and turned, looking across at another row with a look of both awe and despair. It hurt her to see the ruins, but she could also picture how it all looked before it was torn apart. She stepped into an open space that was virtually untouched and closed her eyes. For someone that didn't know Brittany, the open space probably looked like it had been left alone out of neglect, but Santana swayed gently on the balls of her feet for just a second before she opened her eyes again. Yes. Brittany had left the opening there for dancing. The way Santana could see the lights had been arranged, the set up was ideal so that she would have been able to see all the lights, all the stars, and none of the ground below while dancing with Brittany.

"This..." Santana exhaled as she slowly turned in a full circle to look over everything one last time before coming to a stop. Her mouth hung open slightly and she let her head hang a little. "It would have been perfect."

"S..." Quinn looked up at Santana as she stood in the center of the mess. The hurt and disappointment she must have been feeling was evident in everything about her. The way she moved, the way she spoke. The way she simply stood and breathed in a staggered breath of air like it was everything she could do not to cave and burst into tears. Quinn pocketed the picture and rapidly stepped towards Santana. The Latina waved her hand and took a step back as she turned away.

"I'm fine," Santana exhaled, limply staggering towards the stairs of the fire escape. "I just... have to keep looking, I guess."

"We'll keep looking," Quinn said. "We'll find her."

"No," Santana shook her head. "You guys stay here at the apartment. In case she comes back."

"I'll stay," Rachel whispered to Quinn. "You go. She shouldn't drive in the state she's in."

"Right," Quinn nodded. "Santana, you don't have to do this alone. I'll drive, you just tell me where-"

"Maybe I want to do this alone," Santana snapped as she gripped the guardrail of the fire escape and swung her leg over the ladder. "Maybe..." Her voice softened. "Maybe..."

"Shut up," Quinn growled. "If you really wanted to be alone, Santana, you wouldn't have told us in the first place."

Santana looked up at Quinn. After a brief staring contest, she bowed her head and let out a long sigh.

"...what would I do without you guys?" Santana said, cracking a weak smile before it disappeared a second later.

"You'd have been dead years ago," Quinn said, smacking the back of her hand gently on Santana's forehead, forcing the Latina to climb backwards down the ladder. "Would have starved to death and we wouldn't have found you until weeks later because we'd have assumed you were hibernating or in a sleep coma."

"And I have the pleasure of calling you my best friend," Santana scoffed as she steadied herself on the level plane of the fire escape below. "Wonderful."

* * *

><p>It was dark on the roads, and Santana was losing hope with every location they checked. They'd gone every place Santana could think of, including Brittany's old apartment and the parking lot of the Aquarium. Quinn suggested they do a drive by to the dance studio one last time before they went home. She assured Santana that Brittany probably had family in the city somewhere, but both of them knew that wasn't as likely as it sounded.<p>

Santana let out another loud sigh of exasperation. She stared absently out the window her face was pressed up against. Quinn slowed the car as she stretched her hand across the console to press her hand to Santana's knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm sorry," Santana mumbled.

"It's okay," Quinn said softly.

"It's so late. You guys had plans," Santana shook her head. Even if they were the plans Brittany must have convinced Rachel to arrange, they still must have been looking forward to hanging out with Mercedes.

"I don't care about that," Quinn shook her head and pulled her hand back. Santana peeled her face away from the glass to look at Quinn properly. The blonde returned her gaze the road with her brow furrowed and her lips pressed thinly together. Despite accepting her apology, Quinn's tone of voice and body language reflected that something wasn't _okay_, and Santana had only just realized it.

"What's wrong?" Santana asked cautiously.

"Nothing," Quinn shook her head.

"Tell me?" Santana said softly.

"S, it's... you have enough to worry about right now," Quinn shrugged. "We can talk about it any other time-"

"-I've spent over three years not talking," Santana said quietly. "And I'd rather talk than sit here in silence."

Quinn inhaled and licked her lower lip as she gathered her thoughts. Santana watched her intently, seeing the cogs turning as Quinn carefully calculated the best approach to the conversation she wanted to have.

"Why didn't you tell me...?" Quinn trailed off and shook her head. "No. That's not it. Santana, why am I the last one to know?"

Quinn pressed her foot gently to the break and leaned back in her seat to look up at Santana.

"Why did Rachel know? And Mike? And Tina?" Quinn's brow furrowed and her grip on the steering wheel tightened. She exhaled audibly and then lifted a hand to her face.

"Q," Santana sighed as she tilted her head to the side.

"No, I know," Quinn sniffed. "It's selfish of me to be upset, but S... How am I supposed to feel? You're my best friend. We've been best friends since we joined Cheerios. Santana..."

Quinn pressed her hand to her forehead and let out a long sigh.

"Why does... why does Brittany get you?" Quinn said. "To know all of this. About you?"

"You're mad at Brittany?" Santana asked quietly.

"No, S, I'm not..." Quinn shook her head. "I'm not mad. It's just...It's frustrating that you've kept something like this from me. I mean, I want you to be happy, but... I thought we were better friends."

Santana's gaze dropped. Her brow creased and she lifted her hand, but she drew it back.

"That's not fair," Quinn sighed. "Not fair to you, I mean. I'm sorry."

"No, Q," Santana murmured. "You're right. I just... I'm not brave enough. I didn't know what to say to you. What to do. I should just be honest and upfront with people, but I'm not. I'm always just afraid. But Q... Brittany... She makes it worth it."

"I know," Quinn said. "I mean, I don't _know_, but I get why you would want to keep it to yourself. But Santana, I'm not judging you for your sexuality. I just don't get how someone you've known for a month? Month and a half? Why does Brittany get to know you more than me? Why am I the last to know?"

"I told you. I was afraid," Santana said softly.

"Why? I'm friends with Kurt. And Blaine. Rachel has two gay dads. Is it because I'm religious? I-"

"It's because you're a girl, Quinn," Santana said abruptly. "You're..._the_ girl. I really, really liked you Quinn. When this all happened with me and Brittany, I knew it was only a matter of time before it came out. But I didn't know how to tell you. I was going to, I just... I needed to figure out _how._"

Quinn slumped back in her seat. Santana continued to look at her earnestly, just waiting. She had put it out there, after all that time, and yet she realized she wasn't as nervous as she thought she would be when she finally told Quinn about her crush on her. At the beginning of the semester, she never dreamed she would ever breathe word of it. And now, as long as Quinn didn't hate her, she didn't really care that Quinn knew. She just wanted to find Brittany.

"Say something, Q," Santana murmured after a long pause.

"For how long?" Quinn whispered. Santana sat up a little straighter as she shifted in her seat. "How long did you... like me?"

"I don't know," Santana shook her head and let out the softest laugh. "Cheerios hazing? Freshman year? I don't even remember who it was you had to kiss. Is it bad that I just wished it had been me?"

"...that long?" Quinn said. Her lips cracked into a small smile. "We were barely even friends then."

"I know," Santana laughed. "I mean. It really was gradual. But the more I got to know you, the more I realized just how bad it would be if I sprung that on you. We became so close. _Best _friends, no matter what anyone else thought. I fell hard for you, but I never wanted to risk our friendship."

"I..." Quinn opened her mouth and closed it again. She inhaled softly through her nose and smiled weakly at Santana. "...you're a dumbass, Santana."

"I know," Santana nodded. Her brow wrinkled but she tried to laugh again.

"You should have just told me," Quinn laughed as she shifted the car back into drive.

"And add to your trail of broken hearts you were leaving behind in Lima?" Santana scoffed. "I may have been a hopeless case, but I have pride, Q."

"And now?" Quinn said, glancing at her quickly and raising a brow.

"What about now?"

"How do you feel?" Quinn said quietly.

"About you?"

"No... about everything," Quinn shrugged lightly.

"I'm exhausted," Santana sighed as she leaned back in her seat, bouncing the back of her head against the headrest of the chair. "But I think if we can find her, I'll be okay. I'll be _great_, actually."

"Were you telling the truth?" Quinn said. "To Rachel? Do you...?"

"You don't think we've known each other long enough for me to love her, do you?" Santana murmured.

"Maybe," Quinn shrugged. "But if you do, then-"

"Is Mike still at the studio?" Santana shot forward. Quinn slowed as she looked up.

"No, he left when we did," Quinn said slowly. When the four of them left the studio earlier that evening, Quinn was positive Mike had locked up the studio behind them. She glanced down at the clock on the dashboard of her car. Unless there was a midnight dance class, there was only one other reason all the lights were on in the dance room.

"Stop," Santana said as she swiftly undid her buckle.

"Let me park," Quinn said, but Santana was already opening the door. The blonde sighed and pressed on the break as Santana scrambled out of her seat.

* * *

><p>The music was roaring from the sound system. I thought it would help. To dance. But every time I attempted to follow the beat, I would trip or misstep. I just kept pushing myself to move, because if I stopped, my head would catch up.<p>

I landed wrong. I should have known better than to force myself as much as I did. Pain shot up my foot and I stumbled, staggering to a stop. I extended my hand as I hopped to the wall opposite the windows, leaning up against one of the mirrors and lifting my foot up. My jaw clenched as I let my fingers run delicately over my ankle. I applied light pressure, but from what I could tell, I hadn't hurt it that bad. I let my foot fall and gently tested if it was really hurt. I could put weight on it, but I slid down to a seated position just to be safe.

"Shit," I exhaled through grit teeth. I let my head rest against the mirror and I stared across the room to the other mirrored wall. I looked miserable. Not just because my hair was a mess and my cheeks were puffy and red. Or that my clothes were sticking to my body and I was gripping my foot in my hands. I looked miserable because I felt miserable. I lowered my gaze and closed my eyes as the song started to fade out.

Why couldn't I get her out of my head? I wrinkled my nose and twisted, banging my head lightly against the mirror. I swear, I could even hear her voice.

"Brittany!"

Why had I ever decided it would be a good idea to move in with her? I should have just found a single room apartment. No roommates, just myself, alone in some studio apartment somewhere. The rent would have been higher. I guess I would have still lost my mattress.

"Brittany! Open the door!"

"Shut up..." I let go of my foot and brought my hands to my temples. I just wanted her out of my head and to leave me alone. I could adjust. I could get used to being alone again. Just... Wait, door?

I opened my eyes and sat forward a little to listen. There was a rapid _thump thump thump_ followed by another cry.

"God damn it, Brittany, open the door." The voice was muffled, but distinctly hers. I staggered up and scrambled to the back of the room to shut off the iPod. I froze and looked up, staring down the hallway at the door of the studio. Santana was pressed up against the glass, her fist resting next to her face as she peered through it at me. I felt my shoulders slump and I stood still a moment.

Santana turned for a second and said something. Her expression shifted quickly, and for half a second she was laughing as she spoke, but then she twisted back to look at me and she shook her head. She repeated the same word or words over and over.

_"She's okay."_

She stepped away from the door and tugged at the handle before she let her fist pound on the glass again. I almost winced and shut my eyes.

"Please," I heard her say. "Open the door, Britt."

"Go away..." the words gurgled from my throat. I heard her fist pound against the door again and I staggered forward.

"Go away!" I shouted. When I opened my eyes, I was standing in front of her, just feet away. Had there not been a glass door separating us, I could have reached out and touched her. If I could, what would I do? Push her away? Or pull her into a tight hug and kiss her? I didn't know. So all I did was stare back at her.

There was so much hurt in her eyes. I felt like the worst person in the world as tears welled up and drowned her pretty brown eyes. I twisted. I couldn't even look at her.

"Brittany, talk to me," Santana pleaded. "Just... just open the door and-"

"Go away!" I snapped again. "Leave me alone. I... I don't..."

"Brittany, let us in." The second voice was softer, and the speaker stepped into view as I glanced up. Quinn placed her hand gently on the door handle and smiled at me weakly. "We just want to talk. Please unlock the door."

"No," I said quickly. I didn't know why Quinn was here. I didn't care. I wasn't going to open the door if there was a chance Santana would corner me.

"Brittany, come on," Quinn's brow furrowed. "Be reasonable. You can't stay here-"

"Stop it! I want to be left alone," I snapped, thrusting my hands against the glass. They jumped back, even if it was only a few inches.

"Until when?" Quinn said. "You have to come home eventually-"

"Then I'll move out!"

Santana's eyes widened at me. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Not any I heard through the glass, at least. I saw her lip tremble. I felt my own face scrunch up as I backed up from the door.

"I'll... move out."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

**Down by Jason Walker ft Molly Reed - .com/watch?v=DXs8Cv8U02k**

**(Brittany) Why Don't You Love Me by Hot Chelle Rae ft Demi Levato - .com/watch?v=q8BPBzXkK88**

**(Santana) Why by SecondHand Serenade - .com/watch?v=faf9FwlYs4U**

**I think it's strange that my beta suggested one of the songs I had in mind when I wrote this. I'd forgotten about it, but I'm glad she sent it to me. Anyway. This chapter. I don't really have anything to say about it.**

**For claritification, this is the layout of the dance studio: **tinyurl . com / ITYTDCH33DanceStudioLayout** **


	34. The Nightmare

"Y-you don't mean that." The words barely escaped Santana's throat, but Brittany had already tore away. Santana smacked her palm against the glass, but it was weak and let out a hollow thud. Brittany staggered and it looked almost like she was limping as she hobbled around the corner and out of sight.

"B-Brittany..." Santana's shoulders shook as she collapsed into the door. Quinn's arm wrapped around her to hold her up as she started to slide down.

"S," Quinn exhaled, but was cut off when a soft sob made its way out of Santana's throat.

"Don't do this," Santana cried, barely lifting her palm from the glass to pat it back down. "...Brittany."

"Santana, she can't hear you," Quinn said, tugging Santana away from the door to pull her into a tight hug. Santana shook and buried her face quickly into Quinn's shoulder before she could get a good look at the tears streaming down her face. She kept taking in sharp breaths between murmured attempts to speak.

"Breathe, S, breathe." Quinn lifted her hand to the back of Santana's head, holding her lightly in comparison to how tightly Santana clung to her. "Look, she's safe. Okay? That's what's important. Come on-"

"No," Santana twisted and Quinn kept her hands extended to catch her if she fell. "No, I'm staying right here."

"Santana..."

"S-she can't," Santana stammered. "Q, she can't move out."

"She won't," Quinn said. "Santana-"

Santana turned away and her open hand flew against the glass again.

"Brittany!"

"Santana, calm down!" Quinn shouted as she grabbed Santana's arm. "She's not going anywhere. Let's go home and-"

"No, I can't," Santana said, balling her hand into a fist. "What if... what if I can't find her again? If she moves out and-"

"Santana, did you not read our roommate contract at all?" Quinn frowned. Her grip on Santana's arm loosened as she took a step back and Santana looked up.

"What?"

"Santana... she's under contract for a minimum of 3 months," Quinn said. "...she loses her housing deposit otherwise. And she just paid me rent. She doesn't have enough money to go anywhere else right now."

"She could still-"

"Santana, neither of you are thinking rationally right now," Quinn said. "She's going to come home. Maybe not right now, but she has to eventually. All her stuff is there. Her clothes, her computer. Her cat, S. Let's get you home-"

"No, no," Santana shook her head. "I have to stay."

"You sound an awful lot like Finn right now," Quinn murmured.

"This is nothing like that!" Santana snapped.

"You're cornering her when she doesn't want to talk to you. How is that any different?"

"Because!" Santana twisted and faced the studio again. She stepped forward and let her forehead rest against the glass, staring through it down the hallway. "Because... she's hurt. She's hurting right now and she shouldn't be alone."

Quinn took in a sharp breath and held it as she dropped her gaze to the ground.

"If I walk away, it'll just re-enforce her beliefs that she isn't worth it," Santana sighed. "Besides... she pushes her way in when I try to keep her away. Shouldn't it be the same for her? For someone to care enough? I know her. It might be crazy because we haven't known each other that long. But I _know_ her."

Santana's shoulders slumped as she spoke, again collapsing her weight into the door.

"Santana-"

"I'll wait for her. For as long as it takes," Santana said. "But I won't leave her."

"...Okay," Quinn said. Santana glanced up at her.

"Okay," Quinn repeated as she turned and rested her back against the wall. "We'll wait. Or maybe we could call Mike or something Quinn started to rummage through her purse, looking for her phone.

"No," Santana said, extending a weak hand to place gently on Quinn's shoulder. "It's late. Go home. I'm fine."

"You don't need to wait by yourself-"

"I know I asked for help. And sometimes I need it," Santana said. "But right now it just needs to be me and her."

"...Heh," Quinn exhaled a soft laugh as she pushed away from the wall. Santana stood a little straighter as she watched Quinn drop her purse and start to unbutton her coat. "Ever since Brittany moved in, you've been different. I've spent weeks trying to figure out why."

Quinn took off her coat and then stepped forward and draped it over Santana's shoulders. She let her hands rest there for a second and stared at her friend.

"Different in a good way," Quinn said as she gave Santana a soft smile. "Brittany doesn't know how lucky she is."

"...I'm the lucky one," Santana murmured.

* * *

><p><em>A sea of darkness washed over me and I wasn't sure if it was because my eyes were closed or not. The ground beneath me was hard to feel. Everything was sort of hard to feel and I realized I didn't know if I was walking or floating. I had to be moving, because I didn't think I was standing still. It was eerie and quiet. I guess I was walking, because the only sounds I heard were the light thumps of my heart and the soft thuds of my feet pressing to the ground. <em>

_After a few moments, I reasoned my eyes were open, but I was growing a little anxious. I waited for my eyes to adjust, but nothing. The darkness wasn't lifting and I still had no idea where I was. I whipped my body around and looked in the opposite direction. It was the same. Just black, dark, and foreign. _

_Was this real? It couldn't be. Unless I was blind, but for some reason that wasn't the thing that worried me. Maybe this was a stage. That would explain why my body felt so distant. But where did the stage end and where was the audience? Where were the lights and the birdcage?_

_My head shot up and I scanned the sky, but it was just as absent as every other direction I looked. I felt dizzy and disoriented. Maybe that wasn't up. Which direction was up and which was down? I felt myself stagger and my hands shot out in front of me to catch myself, but I managed to find my balance before my hands found anything to grab a hold of. Where was I?_

_From nowhere, a light turned on. A bright light. So bright I had to squint my eyes as I peered towards it. I felt more blind than ever, but at least it was something. A goal. A direction. I stumbled towards it and as my eyes adjusted, I was sure that the light wasn't just a light. It wasn't that I could see it any better, but I just had this feeling that I needed to get closer to it._

_I glanced down and saw the light was shining against me and the ground. I stopped for a second. I don't know why, but something made me look back. The light projected a long shadow behind me. It was sharp and dark, skewed in a way that elongated my body in a strange way. I took a step towards the light, then another. The closer I got, I noticed the longer the shadow. I tried to give all my attention to walking forward, but I couldn't just ignore what was behind me. I didn't feel like I was getting any closer. _

_I started to pick my feet up faster. The shadow made me nervous. It didn't taper off or get hazy with distance. Just got longer. Taller. Darker. I felt my chest shudder when I thought I saw my arm move when it hadn't. It was like it slithered. For just a second. Maybe my eyes were just being weird. I already thought I was blind seconds before. Had it been seconds? Or hours? Did it just move again? I broke into a run._

_I had to get to the light. Out of this place and all that it was. It was scary. As I ran, I glanced back. My eyes widened. The shadow was moving. It started to twist and contort in ways that weren't possible. It wasn't reflecting my movements at all. I tore my gaze away and trained them forward. The trepidation and anxiety that filled me was overwhelming. Was it chasing me? I didn't have time to worry about that. Because it wasn't chasing me. As something smokey and black wrapped up and swiftly stretched in front of me, I knew. I wasn't being hunted. I was caught._

My eyes shot open as a shout escaped my lips. I was standing, staring wildly back at myself. Why could I see myself? My eyes darted around as my arms wrapped up to hug my body. I was in the dance room of the studio. I staggered back, glancing from mirror to mirror until I found the open window and let out a sigh of relief. It was late, and the room was dark, but the moon allowed enough light for me to make out my reflections.

I must have been sleeping walking, because I was standing in the center of the room. I let out a nervous laugh that was cut short when I remembered why I was in the studio in the first place. I glanced to the corner of the room where two mirrors met. My comforter was folded in a makeshift bed with Jeremy in his pillow form tucked inside. I let out a loud sigh as I staggered towards it. Something caught the corner of my eye and I stopped short.

I looked to the back of the room where the sound system was. Empty. I had to be alone. I locked the door from the inside. Was my boss here? Or maybe Mike had let himself in. I stepped towards the back and in the direction of the hallway. Something moved at my side and made me jerk to a stop. I twisted and looked over to Jeremy. His fluffy head poked out from my blanket and stared blankly back at me. I sighed. I was just tired. I'd feel better after some sleep.

When I turned around fully to stagger towards my blanket, something swept past me and this time I didn't have to freeze up to stop. Something grabbed my hand and I stared wildly at the mirror. I was by myself, so then what...?

I felt my arm get yanked back, and for a second I thought maybe Santana had gotten inside. But I would see Santana in the mirror, wouldn't I? Something pressed to my stomach as I was twirled around. I faced the opposite mirror now and saw myself hanging forward, but still alone. The muscles in my body tensed completely. What on earth was going on? I was thrown forward and spun again, catching a flash of a dark form before I was pulled back and into whoever was making me dance. I tried to gasp, but I couldn't take in any air.

The dancer was the same height as me, and if its dark form had a face, the eyes would have been level with mine. Instead, it was vaguely transparent and had me gripped tightly in arms that didn't appear to fully formed. Like they were flat, or was wrong about how the dancer looked, aside from having no face, but I didn't have time to figure it out. The dancer advanced, gripping me tightly around the waist and one of my arms. My body moved obediently to the dancer's will out of fear alone. I was dazed and confused, and a shudder shook through my body.

I recognized the choreography. It was the same dance I danced every time I encountered the faceless dancer. But this time it was different. It was real. I wasn't going to wake up and I had no idea how the dance ended.

The dancer continued to pull me along, even though I could feel my body shivering with protest. Every time I caught sight of myself in the mirrors I saw that I was moving on my own, but then I would spin and see the scary form of the dancer. He- No. She? I wasn't even sure anymore. All I knew was that they were forcing me along in the dance and they moved more gracefully than I could ever try to. I heard soft laughter echo about as they spun elegantly around me. I clenched my eyes shut and staggered back, but the dancer caught me again and pulled me along. In most of my dances with other people, as an instructor or with Santana, I usually led. I wasn't used to being forced along, but the dancer had such confident, bold movements.

I was spun around one last time and then was forced to a stop. I looked down, and the dancer's blackened hand that was pressed to my stomach vanished like a cloud of smoke. My chest heaved up and down and I stood still. My breath rattled in my rib cage as I trembled. What next? Were they gone? Slowly, while clenching my fists tightly at my sides, I rose my head to look up. I shot backwards and scrambled back at my reflection. I didn't have a face.

* * *

><p>I shot up. My hands flung from beneath my covers, tangling for a moment as I scrambled. I tumbled onto the floor, fingers crawling and digging at the contours of my face. I whipped around, skidding my bare knees against the wooden floorboards. My heart was beating so fast and I couldn't catch my breath. Everything was moving too quickly. It was too blurry. I realized after a second of panic that my vision was blurred because I was moving too fast to catch sight of what I was looking at. I steadied myself and then scrambled towards the mirror. My palm slapped the cold panel as I stared wildly at myself. I had two eyes, a nose, a mouth. My forehead fell quickly to the mirror and I rested there for a second.<p>

What on earth was wrong with me? Was I still dreaming? I lifted my hand to pinch my arm. Yes, I felt that. My gaze fell to the floor and then over to the back of the room. I saw myself in the other mirror, breathing heavily. I looked terrible. My hair was a mess and I looked paler than I usually did. My mouth was hanging open and it felt so dry. I tried to gulp, but it just felt like I was trying to swallow sand.

Peeling away from the mirror, I stretched forward and grabbed Jeremy. He squished in my arms, and I buried my face in his mane as I stumbled to my feet. A low whine escaped my throat as I exhaled. I tripped when I breathed in again. He smelt so much like Santana and a small smile had formed on my lips for a half a second before my stomach dropped. No. I tossed him from my hands back into the misshapen pile that was my comforter. I guess I wasn't feeling up to going back to sleep anyway.

I wearily made my way to the back of the room, extending my arm on the mirror for support as I dragged my body to the hallway. I stared hard at the water fountain. It took so much effort to will my body towards it, but eventually I managed. I took a long sip before I attempted to cup water in one hand and splash it in my face. It was cold, but it didn't really help. I threw a few more handfuls of water in my face before I stood up straight. I rubbed my cool, damp hand through my hair to the back of my neck as I glanced to the locked entryway. It was light enough outside that if I had to guess, it was only a little before sunrise. I paused and squinted my eyes a second before they widened.

I stumbled down the hallway to the door, freezing for a moment to look down. Santana was curled up on the ground, passed out beneath a jacket. I inhaled as I bit down on my lower lip and then thrust my body backwards. No. I couldn't.

I was already at the end of the hallway and back in the dance room before I could finish that thought. Couldn't what? Was I really going to just leave Santana shivering in the cold? Had she really waited there all night? My shoulders slumped and I stared down to my left at my comforter. I inhaled sharply through my nose as I stood up straight and walked over to my things, scooping up my blanket in one arm and Jeremy in the other before bustling back down the hallway. I pushed the door open with my elbow and froze as I got a better look at her.

Santana's cheek was red from the cold, and I'm sure her nose was too, but it was buried in the crook of her elbow. I tucked Jeremy between my legs and gently laid my comforter over her. She took in a breath and I froze. I waited until she let out a shuddered breath and repeated the action several times over before carefully wiggling my fingers under her head. Her hand flopped to the side as I tilted her face towards me. All I wanted to do was wedge Jeremy beneath it, but the sight of her slumbering face made my breath catch in my throat. It was everything I could do not to just scoop her up and kiss her cheeks and nose free of cold and steal one last kiss from her lips. I shut my eyes tightly and yelled at myself. What was I doing?

"...mm," her voice hummed from her throat and I cringed. "...Britt?" Her fingers reached up for my wrist, but I tore my hand quickly away and stumbled back.

"Brittany?" Santana said as I opened my eyes and turned back towards the studio. I heard her scramble up and I tried to move quicker. I clenched Jeremy tightly in my hand as I threw the door open, but she caught that hand and I froze.

"Please wait." Her voice cracked. I tried to pull my hand away, but she held firm. I don't know if it was because I was too weak that she kept her grip or that I wanted her to hold me back.

"L-let me go," I pleaded.

"Only if you'll listen," Santana said. I felt her hand quiver, and I tore mine free, dropping Jeremy. She let me go and I scrambled inside, but then she caught the door before I could shut it.

"...I just want to talk," Santana said. I heard her step forward and then the door close behind her. "You don't have to say anything."

"I don't want to hear you," I snapped. "I...don't want to see you. I-I don't... I don't want you here. Leave me alone."

"You should... you should know by now I'm not going to do that," Santana said with a weak laugh. It was the same thing I told her the other night. "Brittany, please. I'm not going anywhere. Not without you."

"If I listen to what you have to say, will you leave when you're done?"

"If you listen to what I'll say, you'll leave with me," Santana said. I glanced back and caught sight of a weak smile that vanished when I met her eyes with as cold a glare I could muster. She was holding Jeremy tightly in one hand and my comforter trailed behind her. I let out a sigh and took several steps down the hallway. The ruffle of my comforter led me to believe she was following after.

"Thank you," Santana sighed as we wrapped around the hallway into the studio. I saw in the mirror that she tossed the blanket aside, but kept Jeremy in her hands. I clenched my jaw tightly and rubbed my wrist where she had caught it. She hadn't gripped it hard enough to hurt, but it still stung for some reason.

"..I know you're upset," Santana started. I scoffed, causing her to let out another sigh. "Britt, babe-"

"Don't call me that," I hissed. "I'm... not your babe." I could see in the mirror how hurt she looked, but I held my stern gaze at the mirror.

"Okay," Santana nodded, flicking her eyes to the side as she tried to compose herself. "You didn't mean that," she mumbled. "Brittany, don't you know how much you mean to me? You were right. I was different before I met you. But I'm not going to go back to being that person."

"And who exactly were you, Santana?" I said. "Before? All your friends acted like you were this ticking time bomb. If it was just one of them, the way they talk about you... but it's not."

"...I'm a _bitch_, Brittany," Santana exhaled. "Maybe I was just as bad as those girls. I used to tear people down... I was just angry at everyone." Santana stared down at the ground. "I lived in Ohio, Britt. In _Lima_. Kurt got bullied so much at our school for just being who he was. I'm not going to say that what they said about me isn't true. I _was_ mean. But I would never, ever be mean to you."

"How am I supposed to believe that?" I said. "You want me to just ignore that you have a history of being a bully? And not only that. You have a pretty shitty track record."

"What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you cheat on Puck?" I snapped. She recoiled as she looked up at me.

"Britt...I-"

"Did you or didn't you?" I spun around, jabbing my index finger at her.

"Y-yes," she staggered back. "But Brittany-"

"No, it's simple. There's no excuse."

"Brittany, I'm _gay_," Santana cried. "I'm a terrible person for it, but I didn't care at the time that I was messing with them."

"Just because it was a guy doesn't make it okay," I shouted.

"I know that," Santana said. "I know. I feel terrible. I never meant to hurt Puck. I was an ass, okay? But how can you condemn me for that? That was years ago. I'm not that person anymore. I haven't been, even before I met you. Sure, I wasn't exactly nice to Berry... To Rachel. But I made my peace with everyone long before I met you."

"So then why are they so surprised?"

"Because I was depressed?" Santana said. "I had a really crappy, homophobic roommate freshman year. Then I moved in with Quinn, the girl I'd been in love with for most of high school. Brittany, it was easier to just hate everyone than to deal with myself."

"Well...I..." I furrowed my brow as I looked to the ground. My chest heaved up and down as I tried to calm down. "I'm tired of waiting for you to deal with yourself. I'm tired of waiting on you to be okay with _us_."

"Brittany-"

"No. On top of that, you knew," I spat, tossing my hand in the air at her. "You _knew_ how hard it was for me to open up to you. I am tired of being lied to, Santana."

"I didn't lie to you," Santana shouted, throwing her hands in the air and Jeremy rattled in her grasp. "Why do you think that?"

"You weren't honest with me," I said, pounding my hand to my chest.

"Because I didn't know for sure!" Santana cried. "I was trying to be careful. To protect you. So you _didn't_ get hurt. And even if I had known for sure, how is it any different than you not telling me _Rachel_ knew about us?"

"I... that's..."

"I know why you didn't tell me," Santana said. "You were being patient with me. I'm sorry I had to test that patience. I... Brittany, you have to understand, you make me able to deal with this. I feel strong with you. That I _can_ protect you and that I don't have to be afraid. _You_ make me brave, Brittany."

"Those are just words, Santana. Destined to be broken promises," I said softly. "You told me before you would tell them and you didn't."

"I _did_ tell them," Santana said. "How else would I know that Rachel knew, Britt?"

"Oh, so now I'm stupid again," I tossed my hand up.

"You keep twisting my words," Santana said. "I don't think you're stupid. I think you're amazing and brilliant. _You're_ the one that doesn't think you're smart."

"You think you can walk into my life and just tell me all this stuff about me?" I said. "Y-You don't know me. How can you know me? It was... it was really dumb for me to get in a relationship with you."

Santana straightened a little and dropped Jeremy to her side as her mouth hung open. She took in a breath of air and her brow furrowed.

"Th-this isn't even about me, is it, Brittany?" Santana said softly. "You really don't see how wonderful you are."

"I..." I started, but paused as I looked away again. "I'm not worth it. Whatever you see in me... you're going to realize one day that I wasn't worth all this."

"Brittany. You're... you realize how special you have to be for me to want you to be my girlfriend?" Santana said, gripping Jeremy in both hands as she stepped towards me. "I want _you_. Over everyone I've ever met."

"No," I shook my head. "You think you want me, but... I'll end up boring you or you'll realize that there's someone a lot better than me for you. Like... like Quinn."

"Quinn doesn't matter," Santana said. "She's my friend, but... Brittany, I love _you-_"

"Don't," I snapped. I don't know why I thought it would help to turn away. The mirrors made it possible for me to always see her and she could most definitely always see me.

"I know. Maybe it's too early for me to say that. It's crazy, right?" Santana exhaled. "But I don't care, Brittany. I love you-"

"Take it back!" I spat. She took another step towards me.

"Never."

"You c-can't," I stammered, clenching my fists at my sides. "You can't love me."

"I'll say it a million times, if I have to. If that's what it takes for you to believe me," Santana said. I flinched when her hand wrapped around me from behind to pull me close, but I twisted away. If she hadn't already seen, she would see now that I was trying so hard not to cry.

"And a million times more after that," Santana said softly. "I love you, Brittany. And all I want from you is for you to say it back."

"I..." I stared hard at the ground as my breath caught in my throat. I could feel the tears start to stream down my cheeks and my whole body just felt like it was trembling.

"I do love you," I whispered. "I just don't trust you."

"You _can_ trust me," Santana whispered back. She moved towards me, letting one hand fall away from Jeremy to reach for mine. "I trust you. With everything."

"I can't, Santana," I whimpered. I tried weakly to pull my hand away, but her grip tightened and she tugged me forward.

"Please," she asked as she wrapped her other arm around me. I felt my body cave into her. She was speaking so quietly now that I wouldn't have been able to hear her any other way. She just kept repeating the same thing, over and over in my ear.

"_I love you_."

I closed my eyes and buried my face in her neck. It wasn't that the more she said it, the more I believed it. I knew she was being honest with me the whole time. It was just the more times she repeated it, the more foolish I felt for not saying it back. I tried to. I murmured against her neck and she stopped. She pulled away, just a little bit, but it made my hands clench at the sides of her hoodie.

"I... I'm sorry," I murmured. Ugh, that was wrong. I wanted to say it. Why didn't I just say it? I pulled back a little too, but only to create enough space between us to look at her. I tried to smile, but I knew it probably still just looked like I was crying. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers and I felt her choke back a laugh.

"I love you," I mumbled against her lips. She tickled her fingers up my back as she pressed further into me. She whispered it again, tearing her arm away only to toss Jeremy aside. A gurgled laugh escaped my throat and she brought her hands up to my cheeks, running her thumbs underneath my eyelids to wipe the wetness away. She staggered into me, making me back up as she kept kissing me. They were soft, sweet pecks, all the while muttering under her breath. I. Kiss. Love. Kiss. You. Kiss.

"God," I murmured as she brought her lips to continue kisses over my cheeks. "I'm so stupid."

"Not. True." Her kisses were wet, and I wasn't sure if it was because she was kissing the spots on my face that were damp from tears or if she was the one making them wet. "You are. A genius. Who knows random facts. About polar bears."

"Albino polar bears," I corrected as her lips found mine again.

"See?"

"You said that. On purpose," I mumbled. She kept kissing me and stepping towards me until my back pressed into the glass mirror at the front of the room. Her hands slipped away from my face, one wrapping up through my hair, and the other sliding down to rest over my heart.

"I did," Santana murmured. "But you're so. Smart. You figured. That out. Too."

"Stop talking," I whispered.

"But I love you," Santana grinned.

"That's okay to say," I sighed, but neither of us said much after that. I snatched her lips back in mine, sucking on her lower lip before her tongue delved into my mouth. There were a mix of moans and hums escaping both our throats as her hand on my chest lowered to palm my breast and I dug my fingers into her back to pull her closer. My chest started to swell up, and I wondered how I could have ever hoped to survive without her. I needed her.

"I love you," I gasped when we broke from our kissing to catch our breath. I needed Santana more than I needed the air. That falling feeling I got was returning, but it was like those three small words were able to keep me afloat. Her kisses did. Santana did. Just all of her made me feel amazing. She didn't need to say it for me to feel every word her kisses meant. When she hummed and the words came tumbling out anyway, I just felt like I could fly.

"I'm sorry," I murmured as her kisses trailed away from my lips.

"For what?" Santana whispered. "I understand. It's fine."

"For ruining our date," I said and felt her hum against my jaw. "And for making you sleep out in the cold."

"You _are_ in trouble for the date," Santana cooed in my ear before nibbling at it gently. "But you're forgiven for the cold as long as you keep me warm now."

"Anything," I breathed. Her hand stilled at my breast and she bowed her head, her cheek pressing against mine.

"W-would it be okay if I really wanted to tear your clothes off right now?" Santana husked. It made a chill run down my spine and my lips spread into a grin.

"You said... I make you brave," I whispered back.

"Is that a yes?" It was like her voice lapped at my ear, or maybe that was actually her tongue.

"It's not a no," I hummed, dragging my fingers down her back to slip beneath her hoodie. I felt her grin as her lips returned to my jaw and then pepper down my neck. Her hand untangled from my hair as she quickly lowered both to my pants. I couldn't help the bubbly laugh that escaped my throat as she simultaneously nibbled at my neck and fumbled with pulling my pants down. She was so eager, and it probably didn't help that my ass was squashed against the mirror and that I was standing. I pressed my hips into her and her hands slide between the fabric of my pants and my underwear, cupping my butt for a second as I wiggled.

Santana grunted when my pants didn't fall immediately, so I pulled my hand away from beneath her hoodie and helped her remove them. I stepped forward and kicked them off, but then stumbled when I put weight on my one foot.

"Woah," Santana said, catching my hand in hers. "You okay?"

"I stepped wrong earlier," I muttered.

"Here," she placed my hand gingerly to her back for balance and then wiggled her hips towards me. "Better?"

"Yes," I exhaled.

"I love you," she murmured and let out a small chuckle as I nipped at her neck and brought my hand back up to remove her hoodie. She let me tug it over her head and then pulled me around in a semi circle, only to pin me back up against another mirror.

"S-santana," I whimpered as her lips crashed back against mine. Already we were panting between kisses. Her hands were groping at my stomach and I was digging my own fingers at her breasts. She was wearing a super tight dress that made them look amazing, but I was more concerned with touching at this point. I wanted to tear off her dress, but doing so would require her to stop kissing me or for me to stop kissing her, and I just couldn't bare that. I think she thought the same thing, because her hand suddenly reached for my leg and pulled it up to her waist. Her other hand flailed lightly and tapped the other leg, and I got the hint. I let my hands slide away from her breasts and to her back as I hopped up. She caught me by gripping my ass and leaning further into me to push me harder against the mirror as I wrapped my legs around her.

"Ungh." I don't even know what I was trying to say as she tore away from my lips and let her tongue glide teasingly slow up from the base of my neck and up over my throat. I just let out a shuddering gasp before whispering, "I l-love you."

She pressed her weight into me, squishing her breasts to mine as her hands dug at the skin on my thighs. I gripped one hand still tightly around her back, letting my right hand slip between us and against the inside of her leg. Her left hand wrapped underneath me and she gently felt around. I let out a sharp, but content squeak when her fingers ran delicately over my underwear.

"Baby, please," I groaned, slipping my hand further up her dress and tugging at the band of her underwear when I found it.

"Oh?" Santana pulled her head back a little from kissing my neck as she slurped her tongue back into her mouth. "So I'm your baby again?" Her hand stilled between my legs.

"Santana..." I whined as I continued to desperately tear at her underwear. It was hard, because her legs were between mine and her dress was so tight. She laughed. It wasn't mocking, but instead sounded sweet and kind. She brought her lips to mine as she wiggled, fidgeting a bit until her underwear fell to her ankles. She kicked them away and then tugged mine to the side.

"Britt, baby," she cooed. "I love you."

"I love you too-ooh," I moaned when she slipped her fingers over my folds. The hand I held at her back tightened and gripped a bit of the elastic material her dress was made of. I let my hand other hand move again, carefully feeling around until I found her mound. She took in a sharp gasp of air when I slid my fingers between her folds. She was wet, but so was I.

"Britt," Santana gasped as her hips rocked against my hand and towards me. I twisted my head to get more of her lips on mine before thrusting my tongue into her mouth. She groaned and let her fingers slide inside of me. It caused me to fidget a bit, but she held me steady against the glass. I let my own fingers poke slowly at her entrance. She rotated her hips around to press into my hand and force them inside. She was so hot and warm, it made me moan again.

I'd never been more desperate to have her so close to me. The way I gripped at her back and she pressed into me was almost animal if it hadn't been for the sweet things she kept murmuring any moment her lips weren't stuck to mine.

_"I love you. You're so beautiful." _ She muttered that while rocking against me, nipping and sucking at my jaw and then my earlobe. I panted loudly in reply as her hand pumped in and out.

_"Baby. Is this okay?" _

My response was gurgled and I could barely nod my cheek against hers. The pace was perfect. I didn't want to stop, but I knew the pressure was slowly building up inside of me as I rocked against her hand and pushed my fingers in and out of her.

_"I love you,"_ she whispered delicately as her thumb moved to circle over my clit. I almost yelled. It came out strangled and I had no idea why she was so much better at making coherent words. Each time she spoke it was like she sang to me. Even her gasps and grunts were melodious.

"S-sa...sah," I breathed. I was so close. I could feel she was too. We were moving feverishly, so much so that it was hard for me to keep my legs wrapped around her. I let my one leg fall to the ground so she didn't have to work so hard to support me.

"Ah! I-I l-lah-love y-you," I gasped and then felt my whole body tense. She slowed her movements, but kept circling her thumb over my clit until I was crying out in sharp gasps and I slumped into her. When my other leg fell to the ground and I steadied myself, she started to rock against my hand again. I staggered into her, working her around so that she was twisted and her back pressed up against the mirror. Her dress had ridden up significantly and her bare leg lifted up as I kept pressing into her. She groaned when I let my kisses trail down her neck and then bit down gently.

"B-brittany," Santana moaned. Her hands slipped around to tear at my shirt, and I felt her tighten around my fingers when she let out a loud cry. I kept going like she had until she was whimpering, and then we both just slumped into each other. I let my hand fall away from between her legs and she stumbled as she tried to straighten up.

"Britt," she panted, and I caught her hands in mine as she stared up at me. A few strands of her hair stuck to her face and I knew my smile must have matched her toothy grin. We wavered and I staggered back as I tried to guide us to where she had dropped my comforter. We barely made it as we collapsed in crumpled mess.

"God, Brittany, that was so hot," Santana breathed as she crawled on top of me, kissing me sweetly on the temple and cheek and nose and lips. I grabbed her cheeks and held her there, smushing my lips against hers over and over.

"D-does that make up for the cold?" I murmured, letting my hands tickle up her sides. She hummed happily and nodded.

"More than made up for it," Santana sighed as she held herself up enough to gaze down at me. Her brow knit and she smiled softly at me. I lifted my hand to cup her cheek and she nuzzled it softly before a small smirk formed on her lips.

"Although..." Santana arched her brow. "Our date was still ruined."

If Santana hadn't been smiling deviously at me, I would have felt a million times more miserable about that.

"I'll make it up to you. We'll have another date-"

"A million dates." Santana cut me off with a kiss. "But that's not how I want you to make it up to me." When her lips inched away from mine, I gazed up at hungry dark brown eyes.

"We just-"

Santana shut me up again with a kiss, longer this time as she hummed. I closed my eyes and let her, tangling my fingers in her hair. She was slow and gentle and sweet, and when her kisses drew away from my lips and towards my neck, my brow furrowed slightly.

"Are you mad?" I asked softly and she paused.

"I'm making out with your neck, babe, and you think I'm mad?" Santana frowned as she pulled away. "What on earth do I have to do to show you I'm _happy_?" She tickled her fingers along my stomach, forcing a laugh out of me.

"I j-just," I tried to reply, but she kept tickling until I grabbed her hands and stilled them. "S-stop. I..."

"You had a bad enough day." Santana pecked me lightly. "How could I be mad at you? I was worried. That's all."

"Yeah, but..."

"Do you love me?" Santana whispered.

"Yes," I said with a smile.

"Are you feeling better?"

"After what we just did?" My grin grew wider. "Definitely."

"How's your foot?" Santana glanced down at my bare legs and I waggled my foot for her.

"Just fine," I said.

"Good, then that's all that matters," she murmured as she slipped her hands out of mine and started scooting them beneath my shirt. I placed my hand gently to her cheek.

"You matter too," I said softly.

"I just had sex with my girlfriend," Santana said with a cheeky grin. "And I'm about to have sex with her again. I'm great."

"Oh really?" I asked as she wiggled her fingers up, pushing my shirt up to my armpits.

"Crazy, hot, passionate sex, yes," Santana said confidently as she pulled my shirt off and tossed it aside. She lowered to kiss me, she froze, suspended inches from my lips as her eyes darted to the side. I followed them and saw a purple fuzzy face staring back at us.

"I forgot he was here," I whispered.

"Perv," Santana hissed, reaching for Jeremy and turning him around. He stared back at us in the mirror. "Fuck."

"He's just a pillow pet, Santana," I giggled, tickling my fingers at the bottom of her dress as she sat up to toss my shirt over him. He was covered, but his horn stuck out through my shirt sleeve somehow. Now that he wasn't staring at us, she didn't protest when I slowly started to pull her dress up. In fact, I saw her lift her head a little and gulp in the mirror when my fingers dragged along her stomach as I undressed her from behind. She lifted up her arms for me and I tugged it off. I tossed her dress on top of Jeremy and then looked back at her in the mirror.

"You're so sexy, Santana," I whispered, lowering my lips to her neck. I kept my eyes trained to the mirror, watching her watching my hands as they slipped up and then disappeared behind her back to unclasp her bra. Her mouth hung open a little and she blinked a few times when I let her bra fall away to expose her breasts.

"B-Britt," Santana said weakly. I tossed her bra aside and then quickly cupped her breasts in my hands while trailing more kisses up her neck. Her head rolled to the side as her eyes closed, and I grinned as she took in a slow, shaky breath of air.

"Brittany, th-this is really hot, but..." Her hand moved to rest over one of mine. She peeled it away and twisted, flipping her leg over me as she pushed me back into my comforter. She stared down at me, slowly letting her fingers tickle over my stomach.

"I want to see you," she whispered softly. "I want to feel you. I want to love you. Just you."

She gazed at me so intently, my words caught in my throat. Just a simple 'okay' would have sufficed, but nothing. That's all it had ever been when she kissed me or held me. This whole time, I'd felt all this warmth from her. Our first kiss, our first time... maybe I hadn't known it then, but I think I'd loved her all along.

I lifted my hips a little as she pulled my underwear down and then wriggled until they were all the way down. She dipped down and held a long kiss to my lips while she slithered her hands underneath me and undid my bra. My hands found hers as she laid flat against me, nestling her one leg between my thighs. I tangled my fingers with hers and she hummed happily. It tickled and made me laugh, but then her tongue muted me.

Our hips found a steady rhythm and we laid there rocking and kissing for who knows how long. At some point my hands slipped away from hers to cup her face and stroke my fingers against her back and hers dragged down over my heart and up my neck. The lazy kisses she gave me weren't at all feverish like the had been before, and she was content with letting my tongue glide slowly against hers. When she pulled up and started to kiss down my neck, over my collarbone and scoot downwards, I tugged her back up and held the sides of her face.

"Stay up here," I murmured. She just pecked my lips in reply and nuzzled her nose to mine. She shifted a bit, positioning my leg up a little so she could press her thigh down with a little more force. It elicited a long, soft moan from my throat and I let my hands dig into her hair again. I was so sensitive between my legs that the gentle rocking before had been enough to make me feel good, and now I felt like my body was heated up again. I twisted beneath her and she let me roll her over onto her back.

Santana's breathing quickened, as did mine, when I continued to rock my center against her thigh. Her hips rose and fell at a similar pace against mine. I think both of us wanted to keep moving slow, but it was hard to do so. I was getting wound up again, and I'm sure she was too. I held my hand gingerly beneath her chin as we tried to keep our lips connected, but groans of pleasure or small gasps for air kept forcing us to part. I settled for resting my forehead to hers. She came first, tensing beneath me and letting out a sharp cry as she clung to me. I would have let out a confident laugh, but her squirming beneath me and my continued rocking against her leg made my back arch. Shortly after, my body writhed and tangled into hers.

We laid there, just breathing, for a long while. Her hand rose to stroke the back of my head and she kissed my cheek until I nuzzled my face into her neck. I breathed in through my nose and closed my eyes. How could I have hoped to move out? Santana was the most anything had ever felt so much like home.

* * *

><p>"Britt, are you still awake?"<p>

"Mm?" I hummed softly as I lifted my face from above Santana's breast. I blinked wearily and then beamed down at her. Her hair was a mess, but she still managed to look absolutely beautiful.

"I kinda have to pee," she mumbled. I laughed and sat up a little more, letting her wiggle out from beneath me. She pecked my lips and then grabbed at her hoodie for cover. "Be right back."

She scampered across the dance floor with bare feet, tugging gently at the front of her hoodie to pull it down over her front, but I grinned as I got a very nice view of her butt before she rounded the corner into the hallway. I laid there a moment with my elbow propping my head up, gazing at myself in the mirror. Compared to how I'd fallen asleep earlier on the hard studio floor, I'd say this was quite an improvement.

I slapped my hand away from my face and onto the blanket when I realized how much light was filtering through the windows. It was a Saturday, thank god, so my boss wouldn't have come in or anything, but Mike had a ten o' clock dance class he taught that I was positive he wouldn't be late for. Nor would his students be. I shot up and started to dig around the comforter and through the pile of clothes. I grabbed Jeremy and then tossed him over my head as I stretched forward and grabbed my bag. I froze when I remembered my phone was broken and also probably shattered to a million pieces someplace outside of our apartment.

"That was mean." Santana's voice came from behind me and I looked up as she knelt down to scoop up Jeremy. She patted him, pretending to dust him free of dirt or debris as she sat down next to me.

"Sorry," I smiled and kissed his muzzle. She squashed him against my face and then pulled him away to replace his mouth with hers on mine.

"What had you flinging clothes around?" Santana asked.

"What time is it?"

"Lemme check," Santana said. She dug her hand into her hoodie pocket and retrieved her phone. "8:26, why?"

"Mike has a class at ten," I said, shifting to look through my bag again.

"Mm, so I guess there's no time for us to have another go around, huh?" Santana murmured, leaning down and kissing my neck. I smiled and wiggled beneath her kisses.

"Not unless you would like him to walk in on us again," I laughed.

"No, no," Santana shook her head. "I've had my share of surprises, and I'm sure he has too. Any chance you have a spare pair of pants I can borrow?"

"They'll be long on you," I said as I rummaged through my bag. "You can't wear your dress?"

"I don't really feel like trying to squeeze back into my dress," Santana said, lifting it up and letting it fall back to the ground.

"It is sort of like a boa constrictor," I said, swapping her dress with a pair of my sweat pants. "But for your boobs."

"Well, you try handling these rambunctious twins," Santana said, shaking her chest at me.

"I already do." I wrinkled my nose and placed my hand on her chest as I leaned in and kissed her. She let out a small laugh as I squeezed her breast through the fabric of her hoodie. She batted her hand playfully at me to brush me off her and grabbed my sweatpants.

"I know how much you hate clothes, but you better get dressed," she said as she dove for her underwear.

"Accio, bra," I said, waving my hand to the corner of the room. Santana rolled her eyes at me as she slipped her underwear on and scrambled up to stagger to the corner of the room. She grabbed my bra and flung it at me and I grinned. "Sweet, it worked."

"You're not a witch," Santana laughed as she hobbled into my Juilliard sweats. I was right, they were long on her. I threw on my bra and a fresh pair of underwear from my bag. She stumbled over, almost tripping on the lengthy fabric that covered her feet, to help tug my shirt down over my head. I stood up fully and then rolled up the waist of my sweats on her so that she wouldn't hurt herself.

"Thanks," she said softly.

"No problem, baby," I wrinkled my nose at her again and then threw on my other pair of pants. After we put on our shoes, we quickly shoved everything else in the bag, including Jeremy. Santana rolled up my blanket and held it beneath her arm and I shouldered my bag. I smiled as she took my free hand in hers and swung it lightly while she led me down the hallway.

"Hey, so we were here with Mike yesterday," Santana said as she pushed the door open. "He pulled up your file, 'cause we were trying to find you-"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry all of you..."

"No, no, it's okay," Santana said as she shook her head and stopped on the porch of the studio. "I know. I was wondering why... you switched your emergency contact. To me. Why not, like, your mom or dad or... your sister or something?" She let go of my hand a second and knelt down. The jacket she'd been sleeping under was crumbled on the ground and she scooped it up. I took it from her and threw it in my bag before reaching for her hand again.

"Because an emergency contact is someone you can count on," I shrugged. "And I know I can count on my mom or my dad. Not so much my sister. She's still just a kid." I waved her hand in the air with mine and smiled. "But they're in Ohio. You're here."

"You can count on me?" Her lips spread into a grin.

"I love you." I shrugged. "Is that okay?"

"Of course," Santana laughed.

"Where did you park your car?" I asked as we walked down the steps and down to the street below.

"Mm, I didn't," Santana said. "Quinn drove me over. I told her to go home."

"Oh... Santana, I-"

"You keep saying sorry, but I never asked for an apology," Santana said, lifting my hand in hers and kissing it. "The apartment isn't that far. We can walk."

"Yeah, but it's kind of chilly," I said, huddling closer to her. "I feel terrible that you had to sleep out here."

"You already made up for that," Santana nudged her shoulder against mine.

"What if you get sick?"

"I'm fine, babe." Santana let her fingers tangle in mine. "We'll get home, drink some cocoa, and snuggle up on the couch in time for the rest of the Saturday morning cartoons, okay? They still have those, right?"

"I think so. If not, we'll just pop in a movie." I rested my head on her shoulder. It caused us to stumble, but Santana managed to keep us steady. "We both know we're not going to watch the TV anyway."

"See, this is why you're my girlfriend," Santana said as she nodded. "You get me so well."

"It's not hard to figure out that you want to make out," I laughed.

"Shut up," Santana grunted. "That was supposed to be an intimate moment."

Santana held my hand the whole way home. It wasn't like there were many people walking around between the studio and our apartment, but we did pass a few people on the streets. The first time someone walked by us, I was worried that Santana would pull her hand out of mine, but then her grip tightened. I didn't even care to look to see if people noticed we were holding hands. I just smiled at Santana and she returned it with the softest, warmest expression. I started swinging our hands in the air when we turned down our street and she laughed and I giggled until we got to our apartment building.

I was playfully scrapping my feet against the ground and pretending to be a penguin, while waving her arm, when my foot kicked something. I looked down and saw a battered, pink plastic something skid several feet in front of me. Santana's hand slipped out of mine as she knelt down and picked up the remnants of my cell phone.

"Well, I guess we're not sexting anytime soon," she said, giving me a light, sympathetic smile. I'm sure she was joking to try and make me feel better, and it did a little. I even let out a small laugh.

"I...probably not for a long while." I shook my head. "All the phone plans now want you to get a super awesome smart phone. I can't afford one or a data plan."

"Are you on a family plan or something?" Santana asked.

"No, I pay for it myself," I shrugged. "My parents want me to be self-sufficient."

"Well..." Santana hugged me with one arm. "We'll figure something out. In the meantime, don't let me forget. I need to make you new copies of our photos from Myrtle Beach."

"Oh my gosh." I felt my head fall. I'd messed so many things up. I hadn't even thought about that. Maybe breaking my phone hadn't been my fault, but I was completely responsible for the ruined pictures. But how did Santana know about that? I rolled my eyes up to the sky. Rachel must have told Santana about where the date was. She would have seen what I'd done.

"I-I ruined everything," I whispered. "The date- the picnic I had planned. I just got so frustrated, I didn't mean to tear up the pictures-"

Santana twisted and pulled me to a halt just in front of the front doors of the apartment building. Her lips crashed against mine, cutting me off and calming me down as she held there. I felt my anxiety fade and I sighed contently against her mouth.

"That's why they give you two copies," Santana said softly. "So when you're girlfriend gets upset, there's a backup copy. Just in case."

* * *

><p>Santana unlocked the front door and held it open for me. We were greeted by the sight of a passed out Quinn on the couch and the sounds of Rachel bustling in the kitchen. She looked up at us and her eyes widened as a bright grin spread across her lips.<p>

"We were so worried!" Rachel said as she set down her mug on the kitchen island and came scampering over. "You convinced her to come home! Oh, thank goodness! Brittany, I'm going to hug you, okay?"

I didn't really have time to protest. Not that I wanted to. Her arms flung around me, and as she chattered away about how happy she was that I was alright and that Santana knew that she knew and she apologized for that, Quinn groggily sat up from the couch. She swiped her hand over her forehead and brushed back a mess of blond hair and for a moment I thought she was glaring at Santana. She rubbed her hand against her face and sniffled, so that must have just been the face she made when she first woke up.

"You got her to let you in the studio?" Quinn mumbled. Santana dropped my comforter on the recliner and then flopped down on top of it.

"Yep," Santana said with a nod. Quinn looked at me and I stared back at her. We were silent for a second, and then she picked up the pillow next to her and hurled it at me.

Santana shot up and shouted, "Hey!"

"You had me worried sick," Quinn spat, but her voice was scratchy from fatigue that it sounded kind of silly. Not that I was laughing. I stood still, petrified beneath Rachel's hug. I remembered what Tina had said. About hurting Santana. I suddenly realized that when she said that I would have to deal with her, Rachel, and Quinn if I did anything to mess things up, that maybe Tina wasn't the one I should have been most concerned about.

"Do you know how long we were looking for you?" Quinn shouted as she stumbled off the couch. Santana caught her before she crashed into the coffee table, but she pushed her hands at Santana.

"Stop it- What are you? I'm not gonna hit her," Quinn growled and waggled and slapped her hands at Santana's wrists.

"I didn't mean to...I wasn't thinking," I murmured. Rachel let her arms drop from around me and gently patted my arm.

"Leave her alone, Quinn, we worked things out," Santana said sternly with a frown.

"Uh-uh," Quinn huffed and I winced. "She doesn't get out of this. You think just because Santana waited outside for you that she's the only one you affected by running off into the middle of Manhattan with _no phone_ and no one had _any_ idea where you were? If you were safe?"

I stared down at the ground and my shoulders slumped. I felt very, very small, even though I was taller than everyone else in the room. I could hear Quinn huffing with anger. My brow furrowed as I frowned. I didn't know what to say.

"Brittany, come here," Quinn snapped. I looked up and saw her gesture to the space in front of her. "Come here before I... Ugh.." She stumbled forward and grabbed me, pulling me into a tight hug before I could say or do anything else.

"You _fucking_ idiot," she cried. No one had ever called me that while locking me in such a bone-crushing embrace before. I stared blankly out at Santana. Her brow creased, but a small smile formed on her lips as she shook her head.

"Someone hasn't had her coffee," Santana chuckled.

"Shut the hell up, Santana," Quinn scowled as she released me. I staggered back while Quinn reached down and grabbed the pillow she had hurled at me to throw at Santana. Santana ducked and the pillow went soaring over her head and hit the lamp behind her.

"Stop it!" Rachel squealed.

"You want one too?" Quinn growled, scrambling for another pillow.

"No! Don't!" Rachel shouted, dashing behind Santana. Santana rolled her eyes and held up her arms to catch the pillow as it was thrown at her.

"You want a pillow fight, Fabray?" Santana scowled.

"Bring it, Lopez," Quinn said, gesturing to Santana and then to me. "You two obviously need some sense smacked into you."

"Don't bring my girlfriend into this," Santana cried, grasping the pillow tightly and whacking her with a loud thump across the face.

"This is your girlfriend's fault!" Quinn shouted back, grabbing her own pillow and smacking Santana with it.

"Santana's girlfriend should duck for cover," Rachel said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the recliner.

"The girlfriend wants everyone to stop the violence," I said as I was pushed down behind the chair as a pillow whirled passed my face. I still wasn't sure if they were all really upset with each other. It wasn't until Santana laughed that I felt a little less uneasy.

"Hah! You missed. You suck so bad Santana was cut short by a loud thumping sound that must have been a pillow across her face. I peaked over the recliner and my eyes widened when Santana jumped at me.

"She's crazy!" Santana cried, gripping my hand tightly and tugging me towards the dining room.

"We are not finished," Quinn yelled as she stormed towards us.

"Rachel, three against one," Santana said, cowering behind one of the chairs and pulling me down beside her. She continued to hold my hand and peered through the wooden bars that made up the back of the seat. "I'll buy you blueberries or whatever for life. We can take her."

Quinn glared at Rachel and held up her pillow threateningly. Rachel smiled weakly and backed up towards the television.

"I'm just an innocent bystander in all of this," she said, holding up her hands defensively.

"You wimp!" Santana shouted.

"Quinn, I'm sorry!" I cried, huddling into Santana.

"This is war, don't apologize," Santana snapped.

"You're cornered," Quinn said. "Surrender. There's no where else to go."

"Or what?" Santana stuck out her tongue. Quinn stomped forward and smacked her on the head with the pillow before she could scramble up. I think it was in part because she tried to pull me up and push me to the side along with her. The pillow came crashing down on my head a second later, but I gripped it and tore it free from Quinn's hand.

"We surrender, we surrender!" I said, tossing the pillow away from all three of us. "Please, just don't hurt us."

"Don't give up," Santana hissed.

"Shut up," I whispered back. "We want mercy. We don't want to anger her anymore than she already is. Quickly! Rachel, make some coffee!"

"I can hear you," Quinn huffed. Her hair had flopped back into her face and made her look like she couldn't see us.

"Sorry!" I squeaked. "Please don't hurt us. We're tired. You're tired. Please forgive us?"

Quinn lifted her hand to her face and brushed her hair out of her eyes. She stared down at me and then glanced to Santana. I followed her gaze as it rested down at our conjoined hands and then looked back up at her. Her expression softened and she stood up a little straighter.

"Don't think we don't have some serious talking to do about the roommate agreement," Quinn sighed.

"Huh?" Santana and I both exhaled.

"Get up. Go to bed," Quinn waved her hand as she turned away. "We'll discuss how you two dating affects the roommate agreement later."

I tugged on Santana's hand as I stood up and quickly bustled past Quinn before she changed her mind. I grabbed my comforter and was pulling Santana up the stairs when Quinn stopped us.

"Wait," she said and Santana and I froze on the steps. She looked me up and down and then at Santana. I looked at Santana and Santana looked at herself.

"What?" Santana snapped.

"Weren't you wearing something different earlier...?" Quinn's eyes widened. "Oh my god- You two-!" She grabbed a pillow from the floor and hurled it at us.

"I was waiting up all night for you two to come home and-"

I tugged Santana's hand and forced her up the stairs. Her cheeks were bright red and she had trouble stumbling up behind me.

"-you two were fooling around all this time!" Quinn hissed. "Get back here!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ****:)**

**Songs:**

**Let me sleep in your arms by Stanfour feat Jill watch?v=M4Ka46JWXcU**

**Psychobabble by Frou Frou watch?v=5j5xMRPjDcw  
><strong>

**Headlock by Imogen Heap watch?v=eKZsZkH_MJc**

**Fall for You by Secondhand Serenade watch?v=taOxNLT7vds**


	35. The Dating Clause

Once we were upstairs, Santana took the lead, forcing me to drop my comforter in my room before swiftly tugging me to hers. We could hear Quinn grumbling a base of the stairwell, but she didn't seem to want to make the trek to follow us. I was whisked around and twirled into Santana's room, giggles bubbling from my throat as she closed the door. When she turned, I stepped closer and leaned into her.

"Did I spin you too fast?" Santana laughed as I pressed more weight into her. I hummed and rested my cheek against the crook of her neck. She stumbled back a bit, and I almost fell, but she managed to regain her footing and hold us steady.

"I'm so happy," I whispered, and I was. I was happy to be in Santana's arms, to have the warmth she gave me, and for the kind friendship that Quinn and Rachel provided in their own ways. Even if Quinn was mad, she had been accepting of our relationship. Furthermore, she was only upset because she'd been worried. About _me_ just as much as Santana. That meant a lot.

"Me too," Santana said softly. "That was better than expected."

"I meant that I didn't have to climb the fire escape," I giggled. Her hold loosened around me, and for a split second I thought she was going to pry me away, but instead, her fingers started tickling furiously at my sides. I let out a shriek and laughed loudly, tearing away from her as she chased me to her bed.

"S-stop! Santana! I can't b-breathe!" I laughed as I tumbled into her mattress. She crawled on top of me and kept tickling until I was literally gasping for breath. Then, she leaned down and pressed her lips to my nose before rolling off of me and reaching for my hand. I snuggled close to her and she sighed while I caught my breath.

"I should be exhausted," Santana murmured.

"You're not?" I exhaled, leaning forward and nuzzling my nose against her neck.

"I am," Santana said, lifting her hand to my chin and gently pushing it up to level with hers. I stared up into her eyes. She looked tired, but her gaze was warm and happy. I took in a breath as she leaned forward and locked her lips with mine. Her eyes closed slowly and she hummed again. It was a long, soft sound that made me think that she would start singing if her mouth wasn't already occupied. I slipped my hands around her back and tugged her closer. She rolled back on top of me, placing her hands at my sides as she propped herself up and deepened her kiss.

I let my hands slide down to her waist, holding her delicately as she let her tongue glide over my lips. The base of her hoodie was riding up and I could feel bare skin beneath my palms. She was warm, almost hot. Well, definitely _hot_, but her skin felt like fire beneath my fingertips. I wasn't sure if she really wanted to do this _again_ or if we were just kissing, but I let her tongue slide into my mouth regardless. It was Saturday, so there wasn't any reason to be worried if we wasted the day away. I let one of my hands slip away from around her back and then tickle underneath her hoodie. I dragged it slowly up over her flat stomach and inched my way up. She wrestled her tongue against mine, drawing a not-so-quiet moan from my mouth.

Did us being out to Quinn and Rachel mean I could be loud again? I didn't really have time to consider that question. One moment, Santana was humming soft moans in my mouth, the next, she froze completely against me.

"-Brittany left her bag downstairs, and she wasn't in her room so I assum-"

Santana tore away from my mouth and my hand shot out from beneath her shirt. When she had twisted away from me to look to the door, I managed to catch sight of Quinn standing with her jaw dropped and eyes wide.

"Get the fuck out of my room!" Santana snapped.

Quinn recoiled and shook her head. Her brow furrowed and she rolled her eyes. "You two are like freakin' rabbits!" she shouted as she tossed my bag onto Santana's circle chair. Santana twisted and grabbed around until she gripped a pillow.

"Get out!" Santana howled, throwing the pillow across the room.

"Put a fucking sock on the door next time," Quinn hollered as she scrambled out of the room.

"Learn to god damn knock, Fabray!" Santana shouted back. "At least I'm getting some!"

"Fuck you, Santana." Her voice was muffled by the closed door, but I sat up and brought my hand to my mouth.

"I will!" I called out. Santana snorted with laughter as Quinn stomped away down the hall. We tried to keep our chuckling quiet until the footsteps faded and then I craned forward to kiss her gently. She slumped into me and let out a deep sigh.

"You're tired," I whispered as I drew my lips away. I lifted my hand to run my fingers delicately over the soft contours of her face until she leaned into my hand.

"I'm not," she insisted. "I just waaanna," she yawned, "stay up and spend time with you."

"We are spending time together," I giggled.

"I'm just afraid if I go to sleep, I'll wake up with this all having been a dream," Santana grumbled as she crawled off of me and pulled me closer to her. I took in a breath that I hoped she didn't notice. I was sure she hadn't when she readjusted us so that she was spooning me from behind, and when she started nibbling at my neck, I let myself relax a little. She probably meant what she said as a sincere or romantic gesture, but I was a little scared of the same thing. I brought my hand up to the one she had draped over me and squeezed it gently.

We lay there for a while. I had no idea how long, but I didn't want to move to check. I listened as Santana's breathing slowed to the familiar pace it became when she was sleeping. Her chest would rise and fall, pressing into me a little more and then not. Occasionally she would shift or murmur in her sleep, and any time she did, I smiled. But I stayed where I was. As much as I wanted to let myself fall completely into her arms and join her in pleasant slumber, I was much more scared of falling asleep than she was.

My dream, my nightmare, had such graphic visuals in my mind. It was haunting. The idea of a faceless dancer was already terrifying, but then it had invaded a real space. My work space, somewhere I'd always felt safe. I felt myself shudder as I was reminded of seeing myself in the mirror and quickly clenched my eyes shut. It didn't help much.

"It was just a dream," I whispered reassuringly to myself. It was a nightmare, nothing more. It couldn't hurt me any more than I let it. I just really didn't want Santana and I to be another dream inside a dream. I think that would be worse than a nightmare about the faceless dancer. For me to get so much hope built up just to have it snatched away by waking.

I was being stupid. Santana and I loved each other. It couldn't be a dream. It wouldn't. Even if it was, and I woke up tomorrow at the dance studio, or even before that and I was still living with Jenna, I would find Santana. I would find her and make her love me. But what if I forgot? What if it was a dream and I woke up only remembering bits and pieces that would fade away by the time I was completely conscious? What if I woke and I was left with nothing but a warm smile and an empty feeling in my heart?

What if it was real? If it was real, I was fortunate and lucky to have her. Santana was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Her smile alone made me feel happier than I was when I helped my students with choreography. Her voice would make my heart swell with more excitement than I felt when I found out I got into my repertoire class. Her kisses sent me over the moon to a level that compared to my graduating high school, when my own parents hadn't thought I would make it. My happiest memory before Santana was getting accepted into Juilliard and the scholarship I had been granted. Now, I had so many memories to chose from, it was too difficult to decide. I could only narrow it down to Santana.

Santana was... so unexpected. I didn't realize how miserable life had been without her. Now that she had found her way into my life and into my heart, any moment away from her was almost painful. It was filled with anticipation and longing. Every second of every minute of every hour spent apart was just time until we found each other again and nothing more. It was a countdown, and it wasn't until she was back in my arms or I was back in hers that I didn't feel like I was running everywhere. With Santana, I could just breathe and go about my life.

Was that bad? How had that happened? I smiled softly. It couldn't be that bad. It was those feelings that must be what all those songs are about. The poems and stories written, old and new, about how two people would meet and their lives were forever changed. It had to be good, this love for Santana. It could only be good, because it was warm and happy and safe. It was the best I'd ever felt. But fear of a nightmare kept me awake. And not just the nightmare of the faceless dancer. There were other dancers that kept me from sleep. And they had very real, very harsh faces.

* * *

><p>"Britt? Babe?" Santana's voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stick up and despite my efforts not to, I tensed from beneath her embrace. She nudged her nose against my neck and squeezed me tighter before she pressed her lips to my skin. It sent a shudder down my spine.<p>

"Why aren't you sleeping?" Santana murmured. I stayed still and waited a second. Maybe if I didn't say anything, she'd think I actually was asleep.

"Britt," she giggled and kissed my neck again. "I know you're awake."

"'Cause you woke me," I muttered.

"You weren't asleep," Santana accused as I twisted in her arms to face her. She lifted her hand and delicately let her fingers stroke my cheek. I stared up at her as my lips pursed slightly and watched as her arched brow lowered and her smirk softened. "I know when you're sleeping."

"I was-" She kissed me and I quieted.

"If you were asleep, you'd have barely let there be any space between us," Santana mumbled as she drew away. "You're in the same spot you were when I fell asleep."

"So?" I said, lowering my gaze.

"Brittany, you're the one that told me you swim in your sleep," Santana chuckled. "I've had enough time to adjust to that, and you don't squirm as much anymore, but you still fidget sometimes."

I felt my cheeks grow hot and I knew they were getting red. She'd caught me so easily in such a tiny fib, I didn't know what would happen if I lied to her about something important. I was lucky she wasn't upset about my lie about Rachel.

"So..." Santana paused and waited for me to look back up at her. She was smiling, but her brow was knit together slightly. "Tell me, why couldn't you fall asleep, baby? I know you're tired too."

"I am tired," I replied with a slow nod. "I just couldn't sleep."

"I know that," Santana laughed and pressed her nose to mine and wrinkled it. "I asked _why._"

A sigh escaped my lips before I could stop it, and I closed my eyes to avoid having to look directly at her. Santana wiggled just a little bit closer, bumping her nose against mine. She was so close to me that I think if either of us moved even a little, our lips would be touching.

"Tell me what's wrong, Britt-Britt," Santana mumbled softly. Her breath was warm and her lips grazed mine a few times when she spoke. She made gentle strokes with her fingertips against my temple, and her tone wasn't exasperated or forceful. It was quiet and calm in a way that suggested she didn't even have to try to be patient with me. She just was.

"It's stupid," I sighed.

"You're not stupid," Santana whispered.

"I... Santana." I wanted to scowl or scrunch up my nose because I was frustrated. Not at her, but myself. I knew she didn't think I was stupid, and I hadn't really meant it that way, but it was so hard to form the right words.

"Is it about those girls?" Santana asked cautiously. It was impossible for her not to feel my body stiffen this time, and I bit my lip.

"No..." I started, but that wasn't entirely true. Maybe it was because of Avery and Madison and Tara. I leaned into Santana, pressing my forehead to hers as my brow furrowed. "Yes. Maybe. No, not really."

"You don't have to keep things bottled up, Britt," Santana said quietly. "You don't have to hide. Not with me, okay? Those girls... they'll get what's coming to them."

"Santana, don't," I murmured, twisting my head slightly. "I don't want you getting in another fight with them."

"Brittany, they're not going to stop," Santana replied as she drew her face back a bit from mine. The loss of contact forced my eyes to flutter open. "I sat back and let it go before, but I can't sit idle anymore."

"Violence isn't the answer," I said as sternly as I could, but it came out in such a small voice that I was sure she wouldn't have heard me if we weren't just inches from one another.

"I never said I was going to hit them," Santana said. She let out a forced laugh and then pressed her forehead back to mine. "You just let me brainstorm a bit, okay?"

"Can you just brain_rain_ instead?" I sighed. "I don't want things to get out of hand."

"I promise you, Brittany, I won't get you in trouble," she said softly.

"Promise me you won't get yourself in trouble," I said, letting my hand rest gently over hers and holding it still against the side of my face.

"I'll try to keep us both out of trouble, okay?" Santana nodded and kissed my nose. "And make sure the trouble finds them." My lips spread into a grin as I held back a laugh. I nodded and slipped my hand from over hers down along her arm and stroked it gently.

"Is that all that was keeping you up?" Santana asked.

I shook my head. I knew she would know if I lied, but it was hard to find the right words to tell her. In light of everything else, the nightmare seemed to be the least of our problems. It was silly to get all worked up over it, wasn't it?

"If you're worried about Quinn or anything, she wasn't seriously mad," Santana laughed. "Or are you still worried about us?"

"No-!" I nearly shot forward and almost banged our heads together. Santana looked a little alarmed at how loudly I had spoken. "No, no," I replied a little bit quieter.

Santana looked at me expectantly, but kept silent. If I had to guess, she didn't believe me, and wouldn't until I explained myself.

"Britt-"

"I had a nightmare," I sighed. "Another one." Santana's expression softened and she let her fingers stroke gently through my hair.

"The same one?" she asked.

"No. Yes. Sort of," I bowed my head and she kissed my forehead. "At first I was all alone, and then there was this light, and then my shadow was like, trying to chase me. I woke up in the dance studio, but I didn't really wake up. The dancer - the faceless one - came and grabbed me from behind and forced me to dance, but I was so scared because I thought I'd woken up. And then when the dance was over... I-I... Santana, I didn't have a face."

I'd managed to bury my face into her neck. I hadn't realized until I finished speaking that my cheeks were a little damp and that she was cooing softly as she held me impossibly closer. Santana kept muttering sweet things in my ear. _It's okay_ and _you're safe_, even _you have a beautiful face_. She kissed my cheek and nuzzled my nose against hers before whispering, "It was just a bad dream. I've got you."

"W-what if _this_ is just another dream, Santana?" I was trying so hard to speak coherently, but it came out between soft sobs. "A-another dream inside a dream and I-I wake up...w-without y-you-"

"It's not a dream," Santana said softly and pecked her lips to mine. "It's not, Britt. This is real. You and me... it's real and wonderful."

"H-how do you know?"

I realized I was trembling slightly, maybe more if Santana hadn't been holding me so closely. She managed to wiggle her other hand beneath me before placing another soft and delicate kiss to my lips. She gazed at me as she drew back.

"Did you feel that?" she whispered. I barely nodded. Her mouth spread into a smile and then suddenly her hand at my side dug her fingers into my skin and I let out a sharp cry. It didn't hurt, it just startled me.

"And that?" she laughed as she dropped her other hand to tickle me. I was so surprised, I couldn't help the laughs she was drawing from my throat as she pressed me back onto the mattress. She kept her forehead pressed to mine even while I squirmed beneath her. She wore a devious grin as she let her hands rest where they were on my waist.

"And earlier? At the studio? Did you feel _that_?" Santana arched her brow.

I gulped and nodded, maybe a little too quickly, as my eyes flicked down to her lips. She let out a bubbly laugh as she sat up and ran a hand through her hair.

"So then it must be real, right?" She dropped her hand and held it out for me to help me up. "What else could it be?"

"A very long, very romantic, very _satisfying_ wet dream?" I said with the smallest smile as I looked up at her sheepishly. Her body shook as she chortled with laughter. She pulled my hand and tugged me into her as she laid onto her back, letting me nestle myself into her.

"I'm really that good?" Santana asked, wiggling her eyebrows as she strained to look down at me. I squirmed and readjusted myself so that I could stretch up and kiss her.

"Amazing," I said softly. "Although we probably shouldn't have sex at the studio again."

"Again, huh?" Santana said as I broke our kiss and let my head rest in the crook of her neck. "So this isn't a dream?"

"I really hope not," I sighed.

"Get some sleep, baby," Santana said and wrapped her arms around me. "I promise that you'll wake up right here, alright?"

"Promise?"

"Promise." I felt her nod her head and I smiled.

"I love you," I whispered. Even with as tired as I was, it made my chest swell with excitement to say it. And when she inhaled softly and said it back as quietly as a mouse, it calmed the thumping of my heart and I managed to drift off to sleep.

* * *

><p>A small puffing sound stirred me. My brow furrowed. I felt really warm. I peeled my face away from Santana's neck, blinking a few times as I realized how damp it was. Santana had twisted her head away from me and her body jostled lightly against mine as she let out another soft cough that sounded like she was trying to clear her throat. I lifted my hand from where it rested on her rib cage and placed it under her chin to let my fingers wrap under her jaw.<p>

"Are you okay?" I whispered hoarsely and tilted her head up so she could see me. She sniffed and smiled.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fi-" Santana was cut short by a series of short coughs. She waved her hand at me and tried to sit up. "I need, like, water or something."

"Stop," I said firmly and placed my hand on her shoulder to keep her on the bed. I lifted my other hand and placed my wrist against her forehead. It felt warm. I removed my arm and then pressed my lips to the same spot. Definitely warm. "You're burning up, Santana."

"God, I'm not sick, I'm not even hot," Santana protested weakly. She brushed my hand away and tried to scramble up, but she wavered and I caught her before she fell backwards. "Okay, maybe a little," she coughed, "little dizzy."

"Lay back down," I said as I made her lean back into the mattress. She tried to protest, but she was too weak to fight the light pressure I placed on her shoulder. "You said you're not hot?"

"I mean, _I am_, but no," Santana shook her head. "I'm actually kind of cold."

"You are _hot._" I nodded as I pulled the blanket out from underneath her and rested it over her. "Super hot." I leaned down to kiss her, but her hand shot between our faces.

"If I'm sick, you shouldn't kiss me," Santana murmured.

"After all that stuff that happened, you really want to stop me from kissing you?" I asked and arched my brow. She paused and lowered her hand. I chuckled and pecked her gently. "I'll risk it. Besides, I have a great immune system."

"Don't jinx it," Santana started to laugh, but then started to cough. "I think I did."

"You wait here, okay?" I said as I kissed on the cheek. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving, actually," Santana murmured. "I haven't had anything since that coffee yesterday... You must be hungry too." She untangled her hand from the covers and let it stroke against my cheek. I inhaled softly and guiltily averted my gaze.

"I actually did eat," I murmured. It had still been forever ago, but I had eaten after I left the apartment yesterday. I waited for Santana's expression to shift, but she just smiled and shrugged.

"At least one of us did," she said.

"Mm." I nodded and then stepped off the mattress. "Alright, hang tight, I'll be back with some soup."

"Chicken noodle?" Santana piped.

"Yes," I said, wrinkling my nose. "Be right back."

"I'll miss you," Santana murmured.

"Me too."

* * *

><p>"-It's not that big a deal. We don't have to do anything."<p>

"Are you sure? I mean, aren't we supposed to? She kept it from us for years, Rach."

"We still don't really even know why-"

I bounded down the stairs and froze at the bottom step when I heard Rachel and Quinn. They were sitting in the dining room, but the thumps from my jumping down the stairs made them look up before I could change my mind to sneak up on them.

"Morning." I waved meekly at them as I tripped and staggered over to the kitchen. Rachel returned my smile brightly and Quinn rose the mug in her hands to her lips solemnly. Even though I'd lived with both of them long enough to be used to this sort of reaction, Quinn's always made me nervous.

"It's after noon," Quinn replied as she set down her tea. I could tell it was tea because I glanced at the coffee maker and it was empty. I opened the pantry and started to slide things around in pursuit of a can of chicken noodle soup.

"What are you guys talking about?" I asked with my nose in the cupboard.

"Nothing-"

"-Santana," Rachel said. I twisted and glanced over my shoulder in time to catch Quinn smacking Rachel on the arm. Rachel let out a sharp cry and scowled. "Why did you hit me? It's not like we don't all know now."

Quinn shrank back in her seat. "It's not important."

"Quinn isn't sure how we're supposed to deal with Santana." Rachel shrugged and lifted her own glass of water to her lips.

"Rachel!" Quinn snapped.

"Deal with Santana how?" I asked as I pushed a bag of Rachel's cereal out of the way and found the cans of soup behind it. I wasn't sure how the pantry had gotten so disorganized. Maybe we should add that to the cleaning chart.

"Really, I was being absurd," Quinn shook her head. "Like, I know, Santana's sexuality is part of who she is and it's not anything she can choose."

"-exactly my point, Q," Rachel said, setting down her glass. "And we don't go around celebrating people for being women or being a certain ethnicity."

"Yes we do," I said and grabbed can of chicken noodle. "We have Women's History month in March, Black History month in February, Asian Pacific American Heritage month in May-"

"Brittany, I meant we don't need to have a _coming out_ party," Rachel said as she held out her hand. "Santana and you might be gay-"

"I'm not gay," I said. "Well. I'm kinda gay." I shifted back onto my other foot as I thought about that for a second. "I'm whatever is both. Or everyone. I like who I like. I can't remember which it is. Bisexual? Or... maybe pandasexual."

"Panda?" Rachel snorted. "You mean pansexual."

"That one," I grinned. "Although I know an awesome panda joke."

"We're deviating from the point," Rachel said as she shook her head and turned her attention back to Quinn. "You don't have to do anything other than accept Santana for who she is. It's worse if you make a big deal out of it, because her worst fear is probably that it's constantly the one thing anyone thinks about her."

"I didn't mean it like that," Quinn shook her head. "I'm talking about..." Quinn glanced at me for a moment and then bowed her head. "Just never mind. I'm over thinking things. Brittany, what are you doing?"

I stared down at my hands and realized I had grabbed a bottle cap opener instead of a can opener from the utensil drawer.

"Oh, I'm making Santana soup," I said, tossing the bottle cap opener back in the drawer and grabbing the proper tool.

"Why?" Rachel asked. "Is she sick?"

"She's not feeling that great, yeah," I nodded, picking up the can and twisting it in my hand to look at the label. I felt my nose scrunch up as I squinted at the instructions. Add one can of water. Not one cup? Or was a can a cup? If I ever ate Campbell's soup, I usually bought the kind you could just microwave already in its own container. I stopped reading when I noticed Rachel shuffle out of her seat. She quickly grabbed the can out of my hands and placed it back in the pantry.

"Hey-!"

"If Santana's sick, the last thing you want to do is give her something out of a can," Rachel said as she sifted expertly through the pantry. She pulled out a boxed container of chicken broth and a bag of rice. She set them on the counter and squeezed between me and refrigerator. I had to lean against the kitchen island, and when I did, I noticed Quinn was busy retrieving a pot from inside of the isle cabinet.

"You guys can't make it," I pouted. "It's like... girlfriend responsibility, right?"

Quinn and Rachel hesitated a moment and exchanged a glance. Then, Quinn set the pot down on the stove and Rachel stopped pulling out vegetables from the refrigerator. I stared at the carrots Rachel had laid out, along with celery, then I glanced at the pot before looking back at them. Quinn was leaning against the counter now, her arms crossed, and Rachel smiled at me as she rested against the refrigerator door. I inhaled and held my breath a moment. My cheeks puffed a bit and I stared hard back at the pot. I had this nagging feeling neither of them thought I could make chicken soup on my own.

"Right," I said, mostly to myself, and rolled up the sleeves of my shirt to my elbows. I could do this. Chicken soup was easy. You just have to make sure to cook the vegetables and rice long enough so they're all soft and stuff. The broth was already made, too, so I didn't need a recipe. I placed my hands on my hips and stared at the empty pot on the stove. Easy.

Once I had pulled out the cutting board for the vegetables, Quinn and Rachel sat down at the kitchen island. It made me more nervous, because they just sat there silently and watched. Rachel kept smiling at me, and Quinn just followed me with her gaze. I realized the rice needed to cook, so I set the knife down on the counter and bustled over to the stove. I poured the broth into the pot and twisted the knob. There was a clicking sound followed by a whoosh of flames. Satisfied, I went back to the cutting board. As I was starting to chop a carrot into smaller pieces, Rachel gave out a small cry and the knife slipped in my hands.

"Ouch!" I hissed.

"Oh my god, Brittany!" Rachel shouted. I spun around in time to see Quinn and Rachel jump out of their seats to the stove. The back of the stove was on fire. I rushed to help them, but before I'd managed to, Rachel had turned off the stove and Quinn had put a lid on the frying pan that had caught up in flames.

"God, that could have set the apartment on fire," Rachel said with a hearty laugh. Quinn shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"That's not funny," Quinn said.

"H-how did...?" I didn't understand what happened.

"You turned the wrong burner on, and the grease on the pan we used for lunch caught fire," Quinn sighed and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. My nose wrinkled as I frowned. I could feel myself turning red, but more than that, I knew my lower lip was starting to tremble and I looked and felt like I was going to cry. I sucked at everything.

"I can't even make freaking soup," I sniffed as I twisted around to the sink. I blinked back blurry tears that stung more because my hand really hurt. I couldn't see well enough to check how bad it was, so I just threw my hand under the running faucet. That hurt more.

"It's not that big a deal," Quinn said. She had appeared at my side and took my hand in hers to inspect it. I used my other hand to wipe my face. I had to use the back of my hand because my fingers were wet and that wouldn't have helped at all. She twisted my hand in hers and shrugged lightly. "You'll be okay. Rach, give me a Band-Aid."

"I'm s-sorry," I murmured.

"Why are you sorry?" Quinn said as Rachel came back, holding two tins.

"I found these in the bathroom," Rachel said. "I'm not sure where the regular ones are. Are these yours?"

"No, I have my own in my room," Quinn said as she looked up. "Are those yours, Brittany?"

I sniffled again as I looked back. My lips broke into a small smile and I blinked back a few more tears. The one tin had little animals on it, and the other I recognized instantly by its neon colors as a tin of bubble gum.

"No, those aren't mine," I shook my head.

"They must be Tina's," Rachel said as she shook her head. "Well, she won't mind if we use one. Oh. This is gum. Strange. Here." She handed Quinn a bandage and Quinn stuck it on my finger. It had a cartoon monkey on it and little bananas in the background.

"Okay, come on," Quinn said as she dropped my hand. "Let's make that soup."

"I can't," I sighed. Quinn moved to the stove and started the right burner while Rachel started to cut up the vegetables after she set the tins on the counter. "I suck at being Santana's girlfriend."

"I won't disagree with you," Quinn said quietly while she opened the cabinet above the stove, sifting through spices.

"Quinn," Rachel snapped. "Stop being mean."

"What?" Quinn shrugged as she stirred the pot. "Brittany does suck at being Santana's girlfriend. It's not a false statement and she's the one that said it. But it also doesn't make her a bad person."

I stared after Quinn as she started to measure out the rice before glancing at Rachel.

"Stop it, Quinn, she's not a bad girlfriend. Brittany, we care about you just as much as we do Santana," Rachel said softly.

"Of course we do," Quinn said softly and twisted away from the stove to face us. Her brow was furrowed. "Stop interrupting me, Rachel. I meant what I said but you're misconstruing it. Brittany, we _do_ care about you. You're our friend. But being _our_ friend has nothing to do with you and _Santana_."

I nodded slowly. I didn't think Quinn was trying to be mean, but it was a little hard to hear that someone else thought I was a bad girlfriend too.

"Brittany, you didn't deserve what happened to you yesterday," Quinn said as she waved her hand in the air. "And Santana's talked to the both of us enough for us to figure out you have trouble keeping friends. So it's important for you to know that we care about you, I get that," Quinn said as she shot a look to Rachel. "You deserve people that love you and care about you and support you no matter what."

Quinn pushed away from the stove and took a step towards me.

"But so does Santana," she said quietly. "You don't suck at being her girlfriend because you don't know how to make soup, Brittany. It's because I don't think you love her as much as she loves you."

I was pressed up against the counter of the kitchen island as Quinn stared at me. Her hazel eyes looked almost gray as she held her steely gaze. I straightened and pushed off the counter while I clenched and unclenched my jaw. My heart started beating a little faster and it was like I could feel it rising to my throat.

How could Quinn know how I felt about Santana? All the feelings I had for her, every way my body reacted from just being close to her... Didn't that mean something? And the longing I had for her when we were separated, even now, just me being downstairs. All I wanted to do was be with Santana, every minute of every day. I _did_ love Santana. But... if this was how I felt about her, what sort of feelings did Santana have? When I pushed her away yesterday, had it been as bad for Santana as it had been for me? Or worse? I gulped.

"I-"

"God, did the microwave explode? It doesn't take a million years to nuke a bowl of ramen noodles."

Santana was leaning against the railing at the base of the stairs. She had her black comforter wrapped around her and Jeremy tucked safely in her arms. She smiled weakly at me and rose her brow as she glanced to Quinn.

"You better not... be picking on Britt," Santana coughed. I looked to Quinn and then swiftly made my way over to Santana.

"I'm not," Quinn huffed. "We're making you soup."

I caught Santana as she staggered towards the couch. She smiled up at me and I let my hands wrap around her cocooned body.

"Forget the soup," Santana murmured. Her hand tightened on mine as I helped her lay on the couch. "Stay."

I looked over to the kitchen. Quinn had returned her attention to the pot on the stove and Rachel waggled her hand at me as she smiled.

"Okay," I said softly as I picked Jeremy out of her hands and wrapped her up in my arms. She didn't have to say anything more or ask me. I wanted to be with her more than I wanted to make her soup, especially now that the task was in more qualified hands. She shifted, and after a few seconds of struggling, we managed to both curl up under her blanket. "Feeling any better?"

"I am now," Santana sighed and snuggled into me. I tensed for a second, but then relaxed when I remembered we weren't hiding anything anymore. I could hold her and cuddle her and even kiss her if I wanted.

"Good," I said before pressing my lips to her on the forehead. Santana scooped my hands in hers and wiggled her fingers between mine.

"How'd you persuade them into making food for you?" Santana asked, glancing over my shoulder to the kitchen.

"You're sick," I shrugged. "And I suck." I didn't want to say any more than that, not because I was afraid of what Santana might think or say, but more because I didn't want Santana to get mad at Quinn. I was sort of mad that Quinn said what she had, but... I honestly wasn't sure if she was wrong, either.

"You do suck," Santana said as she looked back up at me. "_Very_ well."

I flushed. "Not what I meant-"

"Doesn't matter." She smiled and nuzzled her cheek against my neck. "You're perfect to me. Even if you can't cook. I'll just cook for us."

"But what about when you're sick?"

"Then we trick those two dorks into making food for us," Santana laughed. I smiled, because I knew she was joking. I felt a little better about Quinn and Rachel making the soup for Santana, but I was concerned that I wouldn't always be able to rely on them for help. Not only that, but now my brain was buzzing. How did you measure someone's love for another person? If Quinn was right, what did that mean? Did I want to love Santana more than she loved me? Was it a bad thing? To love someone more or less than they loved the other? Or was she insinuating I didn't love Santana _enough_?

"What happened?"

I snapped out of my thoughts and looked down at Santana. It wasn't until I saw she was tracing soft circles on the space between my thumb and my index finger that I realized I had no idea how much time had passed. Did Santana say something else? Was she talking about my conversation with Quinn?

"Did you cut yourself?" Santana said, lifting my hand and flipping it over.

"Yeah, it was an accident," I said, wiggling my index finger at her. She smiled and then her eyes widened.

"Britt, did you use one of my bandages?"

"Those were yours?" I laughed. "They're cute."

"Open your mouth," Santana said, twisting in my arms. Before I could even ask why, she tugged down on my jaw and forced my mouth open.

"Wha' ah' 'oo doin'?" I tried to speak. She let go of my face and started to untangle herself from the covers.

"You're supposed to take a Band-Aid and a piece of gum," she said quickly once she was on her feet. "You only used one Band-Aid, right?"

"Yeah...?" I nodded slowly and tilted my head to the side. She wavered a bit, but she pushed my hand away as she looked around for the tin containers. When she spotted them in the kitchen she rushed over and grabbed them. Quinn and Rachel exchanged bewildered looks as Santana bustled quickly back, nestling closely to me as she handed me a stick of gum.

"Why?" I asked. Santana averted her gaze as she realized Quinn and Rachel were still staring at her from the kitchen.

"It's... supposed to make you feel better after you get hurt," Santana muttered sheepishly. "You get a Band-Aid to keep it keep it clean and a piece of gum for the pain." Santana shook her hand lightly towards me and forced me to accept the gum. I laughed and nodded.

"Where did you come up with that?"

"My babysitter, when I was little." Santana shrugged. "It's silly, I know-"

"It's not." I took the gum from her and she helped me unwrap it. "If I get gum when I hurt myself, what do you get for being sick?" I stuck the stick of gum in my mouth. Santana glanced back to the kitchen and then leaned forward.

"I get _you_," Santana said just above a whisper as she leaned forward and kissed me. My eyes widened, because I was still processing the gum. I wondered if Santana could taste the gum on my lips. As she pulled back a little and ran her tongue over her bottom lip, I knew she could and I felt my cheeks flush. She smiled deviously and lowered to kiss me again, but I inhaled softly through my nose as I tilted my head up.

"Stop," I giggled as I tried to chew the gum. "I don't wanna get sick."

"I've been contagious since before I started coughing," Santana whined. "Besides, I'm not sick, see? All better."

"Santana-" I laughed as she tickled her fingers into my sides and nestled further into me. I lowered my chin and pecked her lips, but she leaned into me. When her tongue slide against my lips, I couldn't help but part them. Mostly because she was still tickling me, but also because when she was kissing me, I didn't really care if I got sick or not.

"Best remedy ever. I feel a million times better," she hummed as she drew back from my lips. I stared wide-eyed at her as she wiggled her eyebrows and chewed the half of the gum she'd stolen from my mouth.

"So are you saying you don't want the soup?"

The both of us looked up and saw Quinn standing over us with a bowl in her hand. Her other hand was placed on her hip and she arched her brow at us.

"You two really shouldn't be _kissing_ if you're sick, Santana," Rachel said as she sat down in on the recliner.

"Shut up, Rachel," Santana grumbled.

"If you're feeling _that_ much better, then you won't mind if we talk about the roommate agreement," Quinn said as I took the bowl from her. Santana suddenly let her body slump into me, nearly causing me to spill hot soup over the both of us. She started to wiggle her arms as she buried her face into my shoulder.

"Nooo." Santana coughed, or at least pretended to. "I'm feeling miserable. Awful. Dying, even. Britt, you should help me up to my room."

"You should probably cough again to seem convincing," I whispered not entirely quiet.

"Y-yeah," she coughed again. "We'll go upstairs and just... I'll get some rest, and we'll do the agreement revision some other time-"

"Eat your soup and shut up, Santana," Quinn said flatly as she rolled her eyes. "You're not getting out of this just because you're sick."

"Fine," Santana grumbled as she sat up. She kicked at the coffee table where Quinn was now seated. Quinn jolted up slightly and lifted her hand threateningly. Santana shrunk back into my side.

"Stop being mean-Quinn," Santana pouted. "I really am not feeling well."

"Then you two need to learn to stop making out for five minutes so we can talk," Quinn snapped.

"We weren't!" Santana insisted. I noticed she stopped chewing her gum. "We were-"

"Eat your soup," I whispered softly and kissed her cheek before handing her the bowl.

"I'll get the contracts!" Rachel said, jumping from the recliner. Quinn got up from the coffee table and stole back her seat while Rachel ran up the stairs. Santana wiggled against me and swiftly brought her hand to her mouth. I eyed her curiously before she held out the half of my gum she'd stolen.

"Gross," Quinn said under her breath as she wrinkled her nose.

"Er, no thanks." I shook my head. Santana shrugged and placed the wad of gum on the side of her bowl and took another bite of soup before letting the spoon drop.

"I don't want to do this right now," Santana sighed. "I'm not ready."

"For what?" Quinn rolled her eyes. "We're not even changing all that much to the agreement. We're adding to it."

"I don't even remember what was on the agreement," I murmured to Santana.

"Neither do I," Santana whispered back.

"You two are impossible," Quinn groaned.

"I can't work with her if she's going to be like this the whole meeting," Santana said as she looked up at me. "She's being a butt."

"Shh, shh, she can hear you," I giggled and glanced at Quinn. She still looked a little annoyed, but she shook her head and I saw a small smile creep on her lips.

"You two will take this seriously, won't you?" Quinn asked.

"Yes," I said, hugging Santana closer. She wobbled a bit and then lifted her spoon to her lips before resting her head on my arm.

"I'll behave if she does," Santana sighed, nudging me.

"I always behave," I said as my brow furrowed. I nudged her back. "You're the one that's always misbehaving."

"Not true!"

"Extremely true," Quinn said. She looked up at me and held her gaze. I thought for a second she was going to say something else, but then she smiled softly at me. Quinn was really starting to confuse me. I'd finally managed to become her friend, but after what happened between me and Santana, it felt like I was back at square one.

"I've got a pen and paper for everyone," Rachel said as she reappeared from the stairwell. "Red for Santana, green for Quinn, gold for me, of course, and Brittany, I didn't know what your favorite color was. Is blue okay?"

"Blue is perfect." I grinned.

"Alright, as often as we go over the cleaning chart," Quinn said as she took a copy of the agreement from Rachel, "I don't actually think that'll be necessary for this meeting. It hasn't been perfect, but Santana, I'm impressed you've been cleaning up after yourself."

"I have?" Santana sat up a little. I nudged her and nodded. "Right, I have."

Quinn stared at Santana and the four of us were silent for a moment.

"Anyways." Quinn shook her head. "We're having this meeting to discuss how the two of you dating affects the um..."

"Equilibrium of the living space," Rachel said. "It's not just you two. We don't have a clause for this sort of thing in the agreement at all."

"A clause?" Santana said, raising her brow.

"A dating clause," Quinn replied. "It would apply to all of us in the event any one of us date another."

My eyes widened. "Are you two...?"

"No," Quinn and Rachel said in unison.

"That's absolutely ridiculous," Rachel scoffed. "I just got out of a long term relationship! And besides," she paused and shook her head, "Quinn is my friend."

"Santana and I started off as friends," I said as a devious smile spread over my lips. Santana snickered.

"There is nothing going on between us!" Quinn snapped. "I'm trying to make this discussion fair, but if you want us to make it about you two, then we'll make it about you two."

"No, by all means, continue," Santana said. "You've sparked my interest in this meeting."

"We're supposed to be discussing how you and Brittany affect things by dating, Santana," Rachel said sternly. "Stop trying to deflect your unwillingness to address that by scrutinizing the nature of my friendship with Quinn."

"I think they want us to cooperate," I said quietly. "But I'm not sure, Rachel started speaking gibberish."

"The Dating Clause," Rachel said abruptly, ignoring us as she wrote on her copy of the contract. "In the event that two roommates decide to pursue romantic and/or sexual relations with one another, the couple must then adhere to the following rules."

"Just two?" Santana scoffed.

"I'm sure we're the only two willing," I whispered.

Rachel shook her head as she continued to write. "No public displays of affection-"

"Jewish girl say what?" Santana shot up. "Aw, hell no, Berry."

"Then why don't you give us some of your feedback?"

"I'm allowed to kiss my girlfriend whenever the hell I want," Santana snapped. "I did not just go through hell," she paused and coughed, "trying to work up the courage of talking to you two about this to be forced back into secret rendezvous in my own apartment!"

"Glad to see we've caught your attention," Quinn said as she picked up her copy. "I think for future reference, we should make a rule about you two not being allowed to take sides just to take sides."

"Rule one, in the event of a roommate issue, discussion or meeting, the couple must maintain their own opinions. Taking sides is not allowed. Also, swaying opinions via bribery is not allowed," Rachel spoke as she wrote.

"Britt and I do not take sides," Santana said.

"We _definitely_ don't take sides," I said and shook my head. Santana caught my eye and I gave her a small smile.

"We're a household of four, if you two take sides, nothing will ever get done," Quinn said and swatted at us. "Take this seriously."

"The amendments to the rules don't take place until after their finalized," Santana said. "While I'll agree to let these rules be set in place, I'm by no means obliged to follow them yet."

"And who, pray tell, finalizes the amendments?" Quinn said. Santana flipped open her copy of the roommate agreement.

"Article two, subsection four," Santana said. "'Changes and amendments to the roommate agreement will be made upon negotiations of those under contract. Any and all changes must be then approved by an outside party before they can be placed into effect.' The last roommate change that was made was approved by one Tina Cohen-Chang on the issue of," Santana paused to flip the page, "the overnight guest policy. Previously, agreements were altered and then approved of by one Michael Chang Jr."

"I vote that Mike get to approve these negotiations," I said quickly as I rose my hand.

"You nominate Mike," Santana corrected and then coughed lightly. "I second the notion."

"Why not Tina?" Rachel asked.

"Mike is an unbiased party member," Santana said.

"Tina is an unbias-" Quinn began.

"Tina was in cahoots with _you_," I accused as I pointed to Quinn. Quinn shrank back in her chair and pursed her lips. "Operation Lady Pants?"

Santana's eyes narrowed as she looked between Quinn and Rachel. "Yeah, what was the deal with that-"

"Quinn and Tina were sure something was going on between you two," Rachel elaborated. "Although I don't think anyone realized the extent-"

"-Fine, Mike will approve the changes," Quinn said, throwing her hands up. "So Operation Lady Pants was a bad idea."

"And?" I demanded. I gave Quinn a rather stern glare as I hugged Santana tighter to me. Santana arched her brow and smirked as she rose her spoon to her mouth and held it there.

"I'm sorry," Quinn mumbled.

"What was that?" I said. Santana nestled further into me and I looked down as she tilted her head back and forth. I think she was enjoying the meeting now, because she definitely looked pleased at the turn of events. Or maybe she just liked seeing Quinn squirm. I looked back up at Quinn and smiled as well.

"I'm _sorry_," Quinn repeated, loud enough for all of us to hear. "Tina and I shouldn't have butted in. But I _knew_ something was going on! I should have known when Tina called and told me to cease and desist..."

"Great apology," Santana said as she rolled her eyes.

"We really didn't mean anything by it," Quinn said softly. "I am sorry. Really."

Santana looked up at me and smiled. "What do you think? Should we let her off the hook?"

I looked back at Quinn and arched my brow. It was entirely possible that Santana and I could hold a grudge against her and Tina for Operation Lady Pants. It was definitely something I wanted to do, after all that had happened. With Tina enforcing the Britt-Kiss rule in Myrtle Beach and Santana getting so upset by it, not to mention all the sneaky pictures that made Santana super anxious. Furthermore, Quinn was making _me_ all anxious and worried, just when I thought I had a hold on what was going on between Santana and I. Not forgiving her would be simple.

"Yeah..." I nodded slowly, but held my gaze with Quinn's. "If she agrees to take over the cleaning chart this week."

"Oh, that's perfect," Santana nodded. "I have a ton of ideas for things to make for dinner."

"You can't suddenly decided to feed yourself just because I have dish duty," Quinn spat.

"Is there a rule about it in the roommate agreement?" Santana asked as she flipped through her copy. "I think not."

"Bitch," Quinn grumbled. I tensed and sat forward a little, but Santana squeezed her hand on my leg.

"Want me to tell Brittany about _Lucy_, Fabray?"

"Shut the fuck up, Santana," Quinn spat.

"Be nice to me, or I will." Santana stuck out her tongue. I wondered for a moment who Lucy was, and I would have made a comment about the dating clause again, but Rachel interrupted me before I could speak.

"We're getting way off track," Rachel said as she tapped her pen to her paper. "I think the next point we should make is the nature of your relationship."

"Brittany is my girlfriend," Santana said sternly and grabbed my hand tightly.

"Oh no, no, I know." Rachel nodded. "We need to discuss in what ways you may and may not go about your _relations_."

"She means sex, right?" I asked as I leaned in to Santana. Her cheeks reddened, but they already were from her cold.

"Brittany," she hissed.

"No, that's something we have to talk about," Quinn sighed. "As awkward as it is."

"Quinn and I talked about it earlier," Rachel said as she shuffled closer to the coffee table. "It's, well, _obvious_ that you two are _intimate_ with one another. I don't think any of us would believe you aren't-"

"Maybe Brittany and I just like to cuddle, huh?" Santana snapped. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to her temple.

"That's a very big lie, and you know it," I said softly.

"You're not really making rules about our sex life, are you?" Santana groaned.

"Only that you can't have sex in our rooms," Quinn said and wrinkled her nose.

"Exactly! Stay out of my room!" Rachel spat.

Santana rose a brow. "I thought couples weren't allowed to take sides?"

I snorted.

"Whatever the case," Quinn ignored us, "You should keep what goes on between you two in your own rooms."

"Wait," I said sitting up. "What about the bathroom?"

"No." Quinn shook her head.

"That's not fair," Santana said and then pointed at Rachel. "Last summer? When Finn stayed over? They got to have shower sex, as revolting as that is."

"Maybe Finn and I did occupy the bathroom at the same time, but that doesn't mean we were doing anything _sexual_, Santana," Rachel huffed and crossed her arms.

"It's not that big a deal, Santana," I murmured. I could tell bringing up Finn was a sore subject among all of us.

"No, we're fighting this," Santana said, smacking her palm on the couch cushion. "My relationship with Brittany, yeah, we have sex. But it's not like we do it every freaking opportunity we get-"

"-Actually, Santana is _really_ snuggly," I interjected. Santana held up her hand to pause me. She looked even more embarrassed that I had said that than when we had started the topic of sex.

"We're not going into detail," Santana said, but then was caught by a fit of coughs. Her outstretched hand wavered and smacked gently against my arm. I pulled her closer to me and she let out a few more soft coughs before she finally settled down.

"You're getting all worked up over nothing, Santana," I murmured.

"It's not nothing," she grumbled. "I should be allowed to take showers or baths with you."

If Santana wasn't nestled and clinging to me as she let out soft coughs, I might have tried to tease her or embarrass her about how cute she was being. I really liked taking baths and showers with Santana, even if the last time had been a little more intimate than I was prepared for.

"If that's something you want, Santana, I'll fight for it, too," I whispered softly. It wasn't about taking sides, either. It was just wrong to deny something like that from Santana.

"Okay," Quinn said quietly. She looked down at the ground, twisting her pen in her hands lightly.

Santana looked up and her brow furrowed. "For real?" She sounded a little stunned.

"Yeah, I mean, it saves water and time, right?" Quinn said, tapping her pen at Rachel and gesturing for her to write. "You can have the bathroom so long as you agree you won't do anything remotely sexual in the living room, the kitchen, the washroom or the dining room. And the stairs. Basically anything that doesn't have a closed door to it is off limits."

"And our rooms," Rachel said gesturing between them. "Stay out of them."

"Too late." Santana shrugged. My eyes widened at the response and I caught a glint in her eyes as she smirked at me

"Are you serious-" Quinn started.

"Where?" Rachel demanded.

"You'll never know!" I laughed. Quinn and Rachel jerked back and quickly looked around the room. Both of them wore equally disgruntled expressions.

"You two are horrible," Rachel grumbled.

"Ugh, whatever, that part is written," Quinn said. "We need to make a rule about the possibility of a break up-"

"Excuse you?" Santana said as her head tilted to the side and her brow furrowed. "We're not breaking up. Ever."

"Aw," I cooed. "I love you too."

Santana flushed again and stared at the ground. She glanced at me as I stared at her expectantly and then dropped her gaze. In the quietest voice ever, she mumbled, "I love you," back.

"Aw," Rachel said in the same tone I had. "They're so cute, aren't they, Q?"

"As cute as buttons," Quinn said flatly and rolled her eyes. "We're discussing potential issues, not ones we want to happen. But if something does happen-"

"-And it won't," Santana growled.

"-Then we have to be prepared with a way to deal with it," Quinn sighed. "If you two break up, neither of you can pressure either of us to take sides."

"We won't," Rachel said. "We care about both of you. God forbid anything to happen that would force you two to break up, but the hope is that it would be on good terms and we can all stay friends."

"Rachel and I promise to remain neutral, whether you two have a fight or if you do break up. If things become unbearable between you two..." Quinn looked to Rachel.

"You both have to move out," Rachel said.

I felt myself tense against Santana. My whole body went rigid, and I felt more in the spotlight than ever before. Our disagreement yesterday had been because of me, and then I'd gone so far as to threaten to move out. I felt like this was my fault that such an ultimatum would even be suggested. Santana shouldn't have to move out if we got in a fight.

"I don't like that rule," Santana said. She leaned back into me. "But that's not a rule we have to worry about."

"Santana..." I whispered softly.

"Brittany, it's not gonna happen," Santana nuzzled her cheek against my shoulder. "I'm not saying we won't fight, but it will never get to the point that we need to move out."

"You promise?" I asked weakly.

"I promise," Santana chuckled. "You and I can't even go one whole night apart."

"We're still here," Rachel chimed.

"Really? Not even a single night?" Quinn said as her brow furrowed.

"Don't you dare," I sat up. "You're not pulling a Tina on us."

"A what?" Quinn looked confused. "What did Tina do?"

"Tina is evil," I hissed and tightened my hold on Santana. I didn't like everyone always butting into how Santana and I worked. It was just what we did, what we wanted. Why was it so bad that we wanted to share the same bed all the time, anyway?

"Tina wanted us to stay in separate rooms until we were ready to tell you two about us," Santana sighed. "In case things got complicated."

"Which was ridiculous," Rachel scoffed. "You two have been sharing rooms since Brittany moved in."

"What?" Quinn's eyes widened.

"Rachel!" I hissed. That wasn't something Quinn needed to know. That's what got us in trouble with Tina in the first place. She thought we were too dependent on one another.

"That _is _a little weird," Quinn said. She caught Rachel's eye and then bowed her head. "But we're not in any position to tell you who's room you can stay in. You both pay rent."

"Which brings us to the final amendment," Rachel said, tapping her pen to the paper in front of her. "No matter the circumstances of the relationship, whether it be a time of dispute or merriment, both members of the relationship must continue to pay rent. Whether or not they pay together or separate, the total amount due must be paid in full each month."

"What the shit does that mean?" Santana scowled.

"It means that we don't care if you pay each other's rent or help each other out," Quinn said. "But we still expect rent to be paid on time. If you two decide to make negotiations about rent and then get in a fight, you still have to make sure rent is paid on time."

"That's fine," Santana said and looked up at me. "You're okay with that?"

"I am." I didn't expect that to become an issue at all, but I could see how Quinn would, since the apartment was in her name.

"I have one more thing I'd like to add," Santana said, taking Rachel's copy of the roommate agreement. "I would like to propose that all our rights as a couple be protected and respected."

"Like what?" Quinn asked.

"Privacy?" Santana said, glancing between Rachel and Quinn. "Closed doors are closed for a reason. Whether or not Britt and I are doing anything, you need to knock first _and wait for a reply_. None of this knocking and then opening the door a split second later or not knocking at all."

"Oh," Quinn let out in the softest voice. "I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine," Santana said, looking away as she held out her hand. "Just from now on, okay?"

"Yes, we'll respect your rights as a couple," Rachel nodded. "So long as you respect our sleeping schedules as your roommates."

"Huh?" I perked up. "Of course we do-"

"Yeah, please, for the love of God." Quinn shook her head. "If you two are doing it and it's the middle of the freakin' night, we don't need to hear it."

"We know how loud Santana can be," Rachel mumbled as she looked away. Her cheeks were red.

"Really?" I arched my brow. "Obviously, I need to try harder."

"Brittany!" Santana smacked my thigh.

"Too much information!" Quinn shouted.

"What? Who was it?" I said quickly as a grin spread over my lips. "They've heard you more than I have! I wanna know who it was with-"

"Oh, was it...?" Rachel looked to Quinn.

"Shut up!" Santana spat, smacking Rachel with the rolled up roommate agreement. "Brittany, it's not what you think, okay? I maybe over-exaggerated some of my one night stands to save face..."

"You faked it?" I laughed.

"You faked it?" Quinn repeated in a shout. "I had to endure listening to your _fake_ sex sounds?"

"I'm gay," Santana snapped back. "I'm not proud of what I did."

"I just... ugh," Quinn sighed. "Fine. Clean slate, Santana. But don't mess it up, or we'll make more rules."

"Are we done here?" I asked and pointed to all the papers as I stood up.

"Yeah, I guess so," Rachel said. "Why?"

"Because this doesn't get approved until Mike signs it," I said, pulling Santana to her feet. "So we still have time to break some of the rules"

Rachel jerked back as I tugged Santana towards me. I was joking, because Santana was still sick, and she could barely keep up with me as we staggered up the stairs hand in hand. But the looks on Quinn and Rachel's faces were priceless.

"Stay out of my room!" Rachel cried.

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry for how long it took to write this. For the record, I'm on vacation at the moment; I have been since May 19th, and it's been hard to write anything. I've been baby sitting my 10 month year old niece every day, so, it keeps me a little preoccupied. Plus she always comes over to me when I'm writing and always manages to try and hit the power button...**

**I'm always actively working on the chapters, some chapters just take longer than others. I had a lot of blocks with this one because I got all worked up over the scare that fics would be taken down. I want to assure you all that I have everything backed up and if, for any reason, ITYTD gets taken down, I will find a way to keep posting it. You don't have to follow me or anything, but if some day it is gone, you can find my tumblr in my profile page and I'll try to ensure you have some way of reading it again.**

**I'm going to answer some of the reviews I got here, so, you can stop reading if you don't care.**

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><p><strong>ptoricandblt<strong>: You review, like, every chapter, and I wish I could respond to you directly. Thank you so much. :]

**youngfateyn**: Chapter 34 was not the last chapter; there are about 12-15 more. I hope.

**mindy**: I write Brittany's POV in first person and Santana's POV in third person because... in my head when I started the story, Brittany was (and still is) always the narrator. Aside from an error I made in one of the earlier chapters, Brittany is never conscious/present when I write from Santana's perspective; but I try to write it as though you still see it from Brittany's perspective. I think the real problem with that is occasionally... you get some insight to Santana's thoughts in the third person Santana POV.

I do agree with your criticism, the POV shifts aren't perfect. I took a creative writing class in which we discussed that sort of thing - In short stories, you don't want POV shifts at all, but I figured I was safe with ITYTD being a really long story. I doubt it's perfect, but if I wrote from Santana's perspective, Brittany's insecurities would make less sense. As the reader, you don't really ever know what's going on through Santana's mind, so it validates (to a small extent) Brittany's fears. As much as I respect the criticism, and I'm REALLY glad I got some, I don't think I will change it. It might be breaking literary rules, but, I just don't know how I would re-write all those scenes and keep the meaning the same.

**Carol**: I actually write ITYTD oneshots on my tumblr. They're on the Jeremy page at the bottom. They don't give much insight to Santana, but they give a little insight on Tina and Quinn. Initially The Quinn Thing flashbacks were supposed to be written in 1st person, but I decided against it. Santana won't ever be written in first person unless I decide to write a one shot about that.

I can't really shift between 1st person Brittany to 1st person Santana, otherwise I feel like I would lose a sense of how I portray them both. They'd start to jumble together, imo, or at least, it would take me a lot longer to write the chapters. There are a few scenes I want to rewrite from Santana's perspective - like the scene right after their first kiss when they went the restaurant - but again, that's something I would do as a oneshot.


	36. Take Care

"Santana, drink it," I said sternly as I held out a small measuring cup full of an orange liquid. Santana wrinkled her nose at me as she grimaced. I raised my brow and stared at her until she took the cup from me.

"Where's my spoonful of sugar?" Santana asked, glancing around as if I had sugar sitting somewhere among the covers of her bed. I held my gaze and she puckered out her lower lip. She let out a soft sigh and rose the cup to her lips. After she had finished drinking all of it, she made another face and opened her mouth a few times as her tongue scraped against the roof of her mouth. I took the cup from her and leaned forward to kiss her softly on the lips.

"Better than a spoonful of sugar?" I asked as I withdrew. She nodded timidly and then wiggled further beneath her covers. A smile spread over my lips as I pulled at the blankets to ensure she was covered and cozy.

"I'm already feeling a lot better-" She was cut off by a small fit of coughs, and she twisted to cover her mouth. I lifted my hand to brush gently through her hair.

"I just want you to rest and relax," I said softly. She looked up at me weakly and I leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "It's the only way you're going to get better."

"Britt, I can't call out of work anymore," Santana croaked. "I just can't miss more work."

"You have enough time to sleep some more before you have to go," I said and dragged my fingers to comb through her hair again. "When you wake up, if you're feeling well enough, then you can go to work. Quinn said she called Tina already and gave her the heads up."

"...Fine," Santana grumbled. She shifted in the bed, laying flat on her back. I took her hand in mine and stroked my thumb over her fingers gently. Her skin was so soft, even on her hands. It was entrancing. I think I could get lost in staring at all the little things about Santana. I didn't know everything yet, but I was learning. Learning Santana was so easy though. It wasn't hard to know the velvety sound of her voice or remember the way her nose would crinkle when she was trying hard not to laugh. It wasn't the sort of learning I had trouble with, like memorizing dates and events in history. The only thing that was difficult about Santana was that no matter how much I learned about her and memorized her and remembered her in my head... she was a million times more amazing in person.

"Hey."

I looked at her and almost recoiled from her touch when she lifted her hand out of mine to gently run her fingers over my cheek. She gazed up at me and smiled. Even though she wasn't feeling well and you could see it was wearing her down from how pale her cheeks had gotten, she still looked amazingly pretty. I was so envious that Santana always seemed to look stunning. Maybe I just thought that because I loved her.

"Thanks," she said. Her voice was quiet and shy, but she kept her hand pressed to my cheek. She must have sensed my confusion, because she let out a small chuckle and continued. "For taking care of me, Britt-Britt."

"I didn't do anything," I said, equally, if not more quiet than she had spoken. "Quinn and Rachel made you soup. All I did was set the stove on fire."

Santana let out a single, sharp laugh that she tried to stifle as she pulled her hand away from my face. I felt my cheeks flush and I looked down at the comforter again.

"Britt, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh," Santana said swiftly, but her voice held a hint of light hearted amusement to it. "I mean, come on, I bet you scared the shit out of Quinn and Rachel."

"I guess so." I shrugged lightly and started to pick at the folds of the blanket.

"Britt, you took care of me better than either of them," Santana said softly and lifted her hand to my chin. She forced it up gently so that I had to look at her. "Neither of them can do your job."

"My job?"

"Being my awesome girlfriend," Santana said as she arched her brow.

"I'm not that great..." I sighed and looked away as best I could, but she managed to tug me closer.

"Um, no," Santana said sternly. "You don't get to decide that."

"Huh?"

"I'm the one that decides if you're awesome or great," Santana said as her lips spread into a grin. "Or sweet. And cute. And sexy..." She strained up a bit to peck my lips.

"No, I'm not," I muttered against her lips. "You are-"

"Britt, shut up, you're all of those things," Santana hummed. I didn't know when her other hand found its way to my waist, but she suddenly tugged me forward and I had to be careful not to collapse on top of her. "It's because of you I feel better at all."

She continued to stare up at me in a warm, gentle way. It had to be what people saw or felt when they were in love. I don't know when she started to look at me like that, or if she had all along, but I felt so unworthy of it. My head bowed down and I carefully let my body rest down on top of her.

"It's because of me you got sick in the first place," I sighed.

"Are you still on about that?" Santana wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me closer. "Yesterday happened, Britt. We can't change that."

I felt my nose twitch and I sniffled. I didn't mean to, but I still felt so bad about everything that happened. I knew she didn't want to hear it, but I wanted to apologize over and over until I couldn't speak anymore just to make up for it. Even then, I didn't think it ever could.

"Britt," Santana whispered. She squeezed me again, and I peeled my face from her chest and looked up while resting my chin against her. "I might be sick right now, but do you know what could have been worse?"

"No." I barely managed to let the word escape my lips as my head bobbed since my jaw was pressed firmly to her chest.

"You could've not come back," Santana said quietly. Her brow fell slightly and so did her smile. Santana's hand slipped away from the small of my back and she let it rise to stroke gently through my hair. Before she managed to run her fingers from the top of my head to the base of my neck, I shot up and brought my lips to hers. I pressed into her so hard that I didn't realize just how forcefully I was kissing her until she murmured against my lips. I drew away, my hands placed at her sides to hold myself up as I gazed down at her.

"I'll _always_ come back," I breathed heavily as I pressed my forehead to hers. "No. I won't _ever_ leave."

"I know," she laughed softly and brought her hand up to cup my cheek.

"No, I mean it." I nudged my nose against hers and kissed her gently. My eyes fluttered shut and I held there for a while. "I've never... felt like this about anyone, Santana."

"Britt..." She paused for a moment. She must have been waiting for me to look back at her, because she let out a soft sigh when I opened my eyes. "It's okay." She let her fingers tickle along my jawline and she stretched forward to kiss me again. She let her kisses trail up along the side of my face, pausing only when she came to my ear.

"How else are you supposed to feel when you've found your soul mate?" she whispered. She said it so softly, she'd barely said it at all. It was like she was scared to say it, and it made all the hairs on the back of my neck prickle up.

"You really think that?" I exhaled, nuzzling my nose to the crook of her neck.

"I do," she said quietly.

"Me too." I nodded slowly as she let her hands wrap back around me and just let me lay there for a while. I wondered if it was okay to snuggle up on top of her while she wasn't feeling well. That wasn't something we covered when we went over first aid and stuff in my Kinesiology class. Was that something I could ask my professor? What to do when your girlfriend has a cold - probably not kiss her, for sure, but I was beginning to realize that would only make her feel worse.

"Brittany...?"

"Mm?" I hummed.

"I think... the medicine is working," she murmured.

"Are you falling asleep?"

"Yeah."

"That's good," I said as I picked up my head and kissed her cheek.

"Britt?" She uttered my name so softly and she could barely keep her eyes open.

"Yeah?"

Her head tilted towards me and she finally let her eyes close. I had to inch back a little so I didn't startle her awake by bumping our noses. I smiled as she let out a warm breath of air and uttered a tiny "I love you..." as she dozed off. I whispered it back, but she probably didn't hear me.

* * *

><p>Some time had passed, and I watched quietly as Santana's chest rose and fell in a calm and steady rhythm. I had quickly realized that it probably wasn't the most comfortable position for me to be laying on top of her while she was sick, so I'd carefully rolled off of her to the side. I wasn't tired or sleepy, but maybe that was because I hadn't taken any cold medicine.<p>

Santana shifted, turning onto her side and I pulled back an inch to avoid having her nose bump against mine. She hummed softly as she exhaled a warm breath against my face, and my eyes almost fluttered closed out of sheer delight. Santana could make my heart thump just a little harder and my breath catch in my throat without even trying. I felt myself lick my lips in preparation to kiss her, but I caught myself before I did. Kissing Santana would wake her, and she really needed the sleep. I settled for gazing over the features of her face, eventually daring to let my fingers tickle as lightly as they could over the bare skin of her arm.

The way the light filtered into the room made Santana look absolutely beautiful. It was still daylight and I had pulled down the shades, but the light struck her skin in such a soft way that none of the shadows on her body were harsh. I was sure that any sort of light would make Santana look beautiful, and I silently reveled in the fact that I had such a stunning girlfriend. Not only was she the most gorgeous person I had ever met, but she was also remarkable in every other way. Her beauty was both inside and out, and it was so hard for me to figure out what such a wonderful person could see in me. The thought made my chest tighten.

If Santana had been awake, I knew she would know exactly what to say to make me feel better. It was one of the many reasons she was such a good girlfriend. I inched closer to her, praying that maybe she would wake up and talk to me. Was that selfish? She had managed to calm my nerves about the things I was afraid of, but I still wanted and needed her to reassure me. It made my stomach feel like it was tightening in a knot. I didn't like that I constantly needed her to reassure me about the same things over and over in our relationship. That wasn't fair to her.

The urge to kiss her awake became more and more tempting with every waft of her breath on my lips. Why I couldn't even handle being awake without her?

I sat up and crawled off of the bed, careful not to disturb Santana as she slept. She shifted and let out a murmur, and I froze for a second as she scooted towards the warm spot on the bed I had just been laying. Despite how hard I tried, I couldn't resist bending down and kissing her cheek after she nuzzled her nose against my pillow. She hummed contentedly, and I gently ran my fingers through her hair once before quickly withdrawing my hand. I was sure that I would end up waking her if I kept it up.

I made my way to the hallway, pressing my hand against the door as I shut it so it wouldn't make a sound. Maybe I would go for a run or try to work on some of my homework. As I made my way towards my room, I heard Rachel and Quinn talking downstairs from the stairwell. I couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but the sound of Quinn's voice echoing up the stairs made my stomach feel like it dropped.

I was so distracted by it that I didn't notice as Lord Tubbington came tearing out of Rachel's room as I passed by. I tripped as I tried to avoid stepping on him, but I caught myself on the bee-lined straight for my room and squeezed between the crack in the door. It would have been funnier to see him have to push the door open with all his weight if I hadn't been so bothered by everything else going on in my head.

I pushed the door to my room open and followed him inside. He hopped immediately onto my bed and curled up, staring at me from behind his tail. I smiled and shut my door behind me before I joined him.

"Haven't seen you in a while," I said softly. He purred and sat up a little as he nudged my hand with his head. He wasn't normally so affectionate. Come to think of it, he looked a little less pudgy too.

"Has Rachel been making you exercise?" I laughed. Lord Tubbington didn't say much, not that he usually did. Instead, he just crept forward and curled up in my lap. It was comforting to have him there. I felt a little guilty that I hadn't been spending time with him. Ever since we moved, I'd been so involved with Santana. I was a little sorry for neglecting him; he was the only friend I had for so long that hadn't abandoned me, and I felt as though I'd abandoned him.

"Did you miss me?" I cooed. He let me scratch under his chin and stretched out his paws over my thigh. "You've probably moved on to better laps, huh?"

Lord Tubbington stared up at me for a moment and then let out a soft meow. I grinned and continued to pet him.

"No? That's nice to hear," I giggled. "Maybe I can convince Santana to let you sleep with us."

I took in a sharp breath as claws dug into my skin.

"Ow, Lord T!" I grimaced. He loosened his hold on my leg and purred again as he rubbed his face against my stomach. I frowned and let my hand scratch over his head. "She's not that bad," I murmured. "I bet if you took the time to get to know her, you'd like her."

Lord Tubbington decided not to reply. Or I guess he didn't. He probably didn't even care, but sometimes it was nice to pretend that he was reacting to what I was saying rather than just doing cat things.

"Did I tell you?" I said softly. "She's my girlfriend. You knew that, didn't you?"

He just lay there in my lap and let his tail twitch back and forth.

"I figured you already knew. You probably knew before we did," I sighed. "You're smart like that."

Lord Tubbington closed his eyes for a second, and I pretended that it was his way of nodding solemnly like the wise sage-cat that he was.

"So I guess you could tell? That she loves me?" I asked. "And that I love her?"

His tail whipped back and forth aggressively, smacking against my other leg that he was casually sprawled across. I took that as a yes.

I rolled my eyes. "You should have told me. That would have helped a lot."

I sat there in silence for a while as Lord Tubbington continued to purr. I felt like I hadn't been in my room for a while. Usually, Santana and I slept in her room, especially since I'd found out how scared of heights she was. I had gotten so used to her room. It was warm and cozy, and it made my room feel bland and cold and boring. I never had really gotten a chance to decorate. I did get all of my things unpacked, but unlike Santana's room that had photos and posters and shelves full of CDs and books, my room had nothing on the walls. I didn't even think I had enough of those sort of things to put up. I had a picture frame somewhere with me and my sister at the zoo, but I had no idea where I put it. Even though I liked taking pictures, I didn't have any with friends. I used to have those pictures from Myrtle Beach...

I snapped up when I remembered the photos. The jolt forced Lord Tubbington off my lap and I watched as he darted towards the closed door and then came to an abrupt stop. He stared back up at me with his tail flicking angrily for startling him. I gave him an apologetic look as I stood and went to the window.

It was open. I didn't remember leaving it open the last time I snuck into Santana's room, but maybe I had. It was entirely possible that someone else left it open, especially if Santana or Rachel had been to the roof since I had. I felt my heart sink even more when I thought about how disappointed Santana must have been to see the rooftop. I was about to reach forward to close the window and give up on the thought of the photographs entirely - it was too depressing to think about - when suddenly Lord Tubbington darted past my hand and out onto the fire escape.

"Lord T!" I shouted. He stopped and stared wide-eyed back at me for a moment before dashing quickly across the fire escape. I scrambled out my window after him, cursing under my breath as I gave chase.

"What sort of diet has Rachel got you on?" I hissed. I'd never seen Lord Tubbington move so quickly. I stared him down and let my arms spread out wide as I crept towards him. There wasn't anywhere else he could go past Santana's window except up, and he couldn't-

"Come back here!" I growled, but it was too late. He had shimmied up the ladder that led to the roof so quickly that I was sure someone had swapped out my cat with someone else's. I let out a small huff and stared up the stairs as he disappeared from sight. I paused and looked through Santana's window to ensure that the commotion hadn't woken her. I could see her bed and she was wrapped tightly in her blankets. She had moved completely over to my side of the bed, just as cute as ever. I wanted her to wake up and see me, but I was glad she was still asleep. Sighing, I started towards the ladder and climbed up.

"If this is punishment for feeding you properly, you should yell at Rachel, not me," I grumbled. "I bet she bought you vegan cat food or someth-"

I froze when I reached the rooftop. It was worse than I remembered it being. Lord Tubbington was slinking around amongst the wreckage I had created the day prior, and I swung my leg up over the edge of the wall that surrounded the rooftop so I could walk towards him. He stopped at a coiled mess of lights and patted a paw at it lightly before he looked up at me.

"...yeah, I know," I murmured. "Don't look at me like that, I know it's ruined."

I watched quietly as Lord Tubbington explored the rooftop, taking a moment only to ensure he wouldn't be able to get from our roof to another building. I didn't see anywhere he could go, but he wasn't really running away from me anymore either.

"C'mere," I said softly as I crouched down, clicking my tongue at him as I extended my hand. He ignored me and nestled down on top of the string of lights. His tail flicked back and forth and he stared at me with the same blank look he always gave me, but somehow I saw it as judgmental. I exhaled softly and sat down, letting my legs stretch out in front of me. I picked at some of the lights and tugged on them gently. Lord Tubbington snapped his paws out in front of him to catch the lights as they dragged an inch away from him. I stopped pulling on the lights, because sooner or later he would end up chewing the wires; it would be bad if the lights were still plugged in. I didn't want him to get electrocuted. He wasn't going anywhere, so I leaned back and stared up at the sky.

I knew that Santana didn't blame me for yesterday, but it was almost scarier that she didn't. She'd forgiven me without any regard for herself at all. It was such a different experience to have someone care that much for me, but I couldn't help but worry. I knew Santana would just say things to reassure me, and that helped, but even with all her words and actions... I was terrified.

"Lord Tubbington, do you think that Santana loves me more than I love her?"

I didn't get a response. I didn't think it would, but saying it out loud was enough to get the thought out of my head a little bit. I closed my eyes and sighed.

"It's just that... I've never done this before, you know? It's not even that she's a girl," I said quietly. "No, maybe that isn't true. I think part of it is that _I'm_ a girl."

Maybe the reason Santana was able to care so much for me wasn't because she loved me, but because I was the first person she was able to love and care for that she felt like she could. Because I was a girl. It didn't matter to me; Santana was Santana. Beautiful, smart, and wonderful in every way imaginable. But if I was a guy or if she had come to terms with her sexuality before she'd met me or not at all, would we be anything? Friends? Lovers? Did those sort of things affect someone's soul? She said we were soul mates, like kindred spirits that were destined to meet. But I didn't know that I was capable of comparing the soft glow that I had for her to the fiery, passionate one she had for me. I loved her so much, but was I good enough for her?

"Santana deserves someone that's smart and pretty," I said. I didn't know if Lord Tubbington was still listening, but I decided it was okay if he didn't. I would just talk to myself. That was fine. "Someone that loves her and can protect her too. I'm not... I'm not as brave or witty as she is. Even if she doesn't mind that I'm a klutz and I can't cook, it doesn't mean she should overlook all the things I've done wrong, right?"

"I... I think maybe she's convinced herself I'm worth all this and I'm _not_." My voice cracked a little as I stretched my arm up to sky. I held it out for a moment before let it smack gently against the pavement. Twisting, I buried my face into the crook of the elbow of my other arm.

"I'm just a girl from Lima, Lord T. I know Santana's from there too, but... have you heard her sing? She's not going to stay grounded," I sighed loudly. "She's gonna be famous, and when that happens, Lord T, she's going to realize that the only thing different about dating me instead of Puck, or any of the other guys she's been with... all that's different is that I'm a girl."

"That's not true."

The voice startled me so much that I nearly jumped, but I was laying down, so my whole body just sort of jolted aggressively against the pavement. My eyes snapped open and I saw Rachel sitting next to me. She was scooping up Lord Tubbington into her arms and he gave me a disgruntled look.

"R-Rachel," I stammered as I sat up. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to think you're crazy," Rachel said as she hugged Lord Tubbington in her arms. "Santana loves you so much, Brittany."

I let my gaze fall to the ground. "It's not that simple, Rachel-"

"Of course it is," Rachel said. "When you love someone, you love them. It can be more complicated than that, but I think for Santana, loving you is as easy as breathing."

I looked up and rose a brow at her before shaking my head. "How could you know that?"

"I know Santana and I aren't good friends-"

"That's not true, Santana likes you," I said.

"Yeah? That's nice to know." Rachel paused as a small smile formed on her lips. She chuckled lightly and waved her hand at me. "I've known Santana a while. Not as long as Quinn has, but long enough to know that Santana really _tried_. With her other relationships. Maybe not in high school, but there was the summer after that she and Puck-"

"Puck?" I looked up again.

"You had to have known they dated," Rachel said as her brow knit together.

"Yeah," I said quietly as I nodded.

"They've been off and on forever, but then Puck disappeared last year to go do his band thing." Rachel waved her hand nonchalantly. "But before that and after high school, Santana really did try to figure things out with him."

I nodded slowly, but I couldn't help but feel anxious. About Puck _and_ about Santana. She said that they hadn't been anything since her junior year of high school, but now Rachel was contradicting that.

"I don't want to talk about Puck," I said quietly. It was already too much to be worried about Santana, but things just became more confusing the more Rachel talked about him. I felt hot in my face and in my chest. I realized that Rachel might take it the wrong way if I said anything and think I was jealous. Maybe I was.

"I just don't want to talk about her past relationships behind her back. That's something that we should talk about as like... a couple?"

"You're right," Rachel said. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to explain that you can't force love, Brittany. It's something you find and foster, but not something you can pull out of thin air."

"But you can lose it," I said, picking at the string of lights in front of me.

"Love can be fragile." Rachel nodded her head and lifted the string of lights so that Lord Tubbington couldn't reach it. "But it can also be really strong, Brittany. Strong enough to make people like Santana not afraid to share how much she cares about you, and strong enough to help people like you realize that you're smart and pretty and special too."

I smiled weakly. I knew my cheeks must have been flushed, but it was so embarrassing to hear people say stuff like that. I just didn't think it was true. When I didn't say anything, Rachel tugged on the lights, this time pulling them out of my hands and away from me.

"Do you think Santana is fickle, Brittany?" Rachel asked quietly.

"What?" I looked up and stared at her. I wasn't sure if she was asking me because she wanted to know what I thought or if it was rhetorical.

"You're her girlfriend," Rachel said softly and shrugged. "Disregarding anyone else, do you think Santana is the type of person to just stop loving the person she cares about most?"

I knew Rachel was trying to comfort me by her question, and that the answer was no. Santana wasn't a fickle person at all. She was also so sweet to me and so kind, but that's what was difficult about the question. Santana probably wasn't the type to just stop loving someone.

"...But Quinn-"

"Forget what Quinn said. That was out of line," Rachel said sternly. "It's hard for Quinn to accept what's going on because Santana kept her in the dark all this time. She's just taking it out on you-"

"No," I interrupted and shook my head. "_Quinn_. She..." I paused and lifted my hand up to my forehead. "You're right. Santana isn't the kind of person that will just stop caring about people."

"I'm sorry, Brittany, I'm not following you," Rachel said with a frown.

"It's... no, never mind," I muttered. I was over thinking things. Santana said that she was over Quinn and I needed to believe that. But she'd also said that she and Puck hadn't dated after high school...

"Look, Brittany," Rachel said as she scooted closer. I was surprised when Lord Tubbington stayed in her lap and didn't claw her. "If Santana isn't fickle, then what makes you think that she's going to change her mind?"

"I don't know..." I felt my brow furrow with exasperation. It felt like the same argument over and over in my head. The problem wasn't Santana at all.

"Santana is so good at all this dating stuff," I said just above a whisper. "She says the right things, she makes wonderful food, she sings for me, she's even helped me with my classes..." I felt my cheeks redden, because I would never ever elaborate _how_ Santana had helped me with school. "She takes me on the best dates, whether it's something planned or just picking me up for lunch... she's just... perfect."

"I had no idea Santana was so romantic," Rachel mused. "That sounds rather lovely, if I do say so myself."

"She is. But I think Quinn is right," I sighed.

"Brittany-"

"No, she is. I suck at being Santana's girlfriend," I said quietly. "I'm not good enough for her. She does all that for me; she sticks up for me and even was brave enough to fight for me. It was rash and probably a bad idea, but she's willing to put herself in harms way for me. And why?" I rubbed my hand over my cheek. It wasn't wet, but I felt like I was going to cry.

"I don't do anything right," I said. "I never have. I barely graduated high school, Rachel. I'm not smart. And even if she doesn't care about that, I'm not a good girlfriend. I messed up our first date by not realizing it was a date to begin with. Then in Myrtle Beach, I made her so scared because of the ferris wheel." I dropped my hand and let it hang in the air as I rested the elbow against my knee.

"I kept doing stuff that embarrassed her before we were ready to be anything. Like that one time I was drunk, I tried kissing her when we were supposed to just be dancing at the club. And I asked Mike stuff I shouldn't have. And this," I sniffled as I gestured around. "The one time I was sure I'd got it right. That I was going to have this amazing, romantic, perfect moment that she's just so good at naturally... I had to go and ruin it."

Rachel didn't say anything. I don't think it would have helped, because a second later, I was burying my face in my arms as I tucked my legs as close to my body as I could. I knew I wasn't a good girlfriend, but it was so much worse because it wasn't that I didn't try. I just couldn't get it right.

"And sh-she doesn't even care," I stammered. "Th-that I mess up. Santana j-just lets it go. She's always l-looking out for me a-and," I sniffed, "sh-she should have someone that c-can do the s-same for her. That w-won't always have to rely on her f-for everything."

I heard Rachel scramble up and then arms wrapped around me, pulling me up and into a tight hug. I let my hands wrap around her back and hugged her back. It wasn't anything like a hug from Santana, but it was still so much better than hugging my knees.

"Brittany, relationships aren't just two people giving each other the same exact thing," Rachel said softly. "They are so much more than just having similar interests or going out on dates. It's not about trading off responsibilities or duties. You're supposed to be there to support and love the other person. It's not equal. Romance never is."

Rachel pulled away from me and let her hands rest on my shoulders.

"I know what you mean when you feel like you just aren't doing things right, believe me." Rachel lowered her gaze. "You feel like you keep messing up, and it's so hard to pick yourself up over and over." The way Rachel spoke was quiet and solemn; I felt like she _did_ know what I meant and that there was more to the story. If I hadn't been so unsettled with all of my own inhibitions, I would have wanted to ask Rachel more about it. I think most of us had been avoiding the topic of her ex-boyfriend because of how well adjusted she seemed to be. Maybe she really wasn't.

"But you and Santana are good together, because you know each other without having to try," Rachel said softly. "Sure. Maybe you can't cook and unexpected things happen. Not everything works out the way you want, but you also make Santana feel better when she's sad or upset. You help her notice when she's being abrasive. If it weren't for you, Santana probably would still be mean to me all the time. Even if we are sort of friends."

I nodded slowly. "So...dating is like when you have two puzzle pieces...they're not the same, but they fit together."

"Yes," Rachel smiled. "Exactly. You have different roles in your relationship. You make her the sort of person she wants to be. The person she wouldn't let herself be before. And you shouldn't be upset that she wants to do things for you. You're different from her past boyfriends, Brittany, and not just because you're a girl. It's because Santana really loves you. Anyone can see that. Even Quinn." She squeezed my arms reassuringly before continuing.

"Quinn just doesn't realize that equality in a relationship isn't something you can always see from the outside," Rachel said. "She's had some really bad relationships herself, and she's just really independent. I don't think she likes seeing Santana get so upset. Does that make sense?"

"I guess. Do you think Quinn doesn't like that I'm dating Santana, then?" I asked cautiously.

"No, I don't think so." Rachel shook her head. "It's hard to say exactly what's going on with Quinn. I think it's just the abruptness of it all. Quinn deals a lot in absolutes. She can be empathetic, but she's also not very forgiving. I think she forgets not everyone has been through what she's gone through."

I nodded slowly. I guess that made sense. I still didn't know a lot about Quinn. I didn't even know Rachel all that much, but she was friendly and easy to talk to. It was actually a little funny how much I had gotten to know Santana, and yet I hardly knew my other roommates.

"You okay?" Rachel asked, leaning forward a bit to look up at me. I sniffled, but my lips spread into a tiny smile as I nodded again.

"Yeah." I rubbed my palm over my eyes quickly. "It's just a lot to get used to."

"For all of us, I think," Rachel said as she stood up and helped me to my feet. "I'm sorry that you haven't really had the time to just relax around here. First you had to adjust to living with us, and now you have to adjust to all this."

"It's okay." I shrugged and dusted myself off.

"Okay, so." Rachel bent down as she paused to pick up a string of lights. "Let's fix this up so you can reschedule your date with Santana."

A warm smile spread over my lips and I felt my brow crinkle. She didn't even wait for my reply; she just started bustling around, straightening out the lights and laying them down on the ground underneath where they were supposed to be strung up. After a moment, she paused and looked up.

"Are you going to help me?" she asked as she raised a brow.

"You're a really good friend, Rachel," I said as I stepped over one of the lines she made.

"I am?" Rachel laughed. "That's sweet of you to say."

"You are, though," I said, taking one end of the lights in my hands as she held up the other. "To me and to Quinn and Santana."

"You know, a month ago, I wouldn't believe you if you told me Santana thought I was a good friend," Rachel said. "I mean, I know she tolerates me, and she's grateful for some of the things we've been through, but until recently I was sure she only put up with living with me because Quinn and I are friends."

"Santana said that you're really driven and passionate," I said as I started to hang up some of the lights. "And everyone knows you're going to be on Broadway one day."

"Really?"

I felt the hold on the lights slack and I looked up at Rachel. She shook her head and lifted the string of lights up above her head.

"I didn't know she thought so highly of me," Rachel said softly.

"You two should hang out more," I said.

"Maybe," Rachel laughed. "It's weird having her out and about more often. It's like we needed one new roommate, but we got two."

"Did she really just stay in her room all the time?"

"Yeah. And she used to drink a lot more," Rachel said. "A _lot_ more."

"Well," I said as I got my half of the lights up. "I have to say, if she hadn't been drinking the first night I moved in, well, maybe we wouldn't be dating."

"I warned you about that," Rachel giggled.

"Your note said not to let her in _my_ room," I laughed. "Nothing about me going into hers."

"Is that so?" Rachel rolled her eyes playfully. "Well, pardon me. Although, I admit, that wasn't _really_ what I meant by that note. I just figured you wouldn't want a drunk Santana passing out in your room or sobbing uncontrollably."

"I really don't think I would have minded that," I said with another shrug. "I would have taken care of her anyway."

"That's what makes you such a good girlfriend, Brittany," Rachel grinned. I felt my cheeks grow warm and I bowed my head so she wouldn't see my blush.

* * *

><p>It took us quite a while to get all the lights back up and to clear the area for the picnic, but not nearly as long as it had the first time around. Rachel got a little bit tangled in the last row of lights, and I realized maybe I wasn't the only klutz. After we finished, we had to hunt down Lord Tubbington and corner him, but luckily I managed to grab him before he darted off. It took both of us to get him down the ladder, because neither of us could carry him on our own straight down. It was darker now and hard to see, but judging by the mass of blankets in Santana's bed, I assumed she was still sleeping as we passed her window.<p>

Once we were downstairs, Rachel hopped onto the couch and let out a loud sigh. Quinn glanced up from her book as I sat down as well and then seemed to lose interest in both of us.

"What were you two doing?"

"Fixing the lights," Rachel said brightly. "And you were just sitting here the whole time?"

"Reading," Quinn said.

"It's Saturday," I laughed. Quinn didn't join in with me, and I quickly let my laughter die off. Unlike my friendship with Rachel and my relationship with Santana, I never quite knew where I stood with Quinn. I thought it had changed and we had bonded, but I guess I had messed that up when she saw how much I'd hurt Santana.

"You study a lot for an acting major," I muttered.

"I'm taking anthropology as an elective," Quinn said with her nose still in the book. "And I also just like to read."

I pursed my lips and stared down at the ground. Ever since Quinn had found out about Santana and I, she'd become more difficult than before. It was hard to believe Rachel saying that Quinn was okay with everything. I clenched my jaw. Was Quinn really still upset with me?

"So is this homework or fun?" Rachel asked. I think she could tell that I was having trouble keeping up a conversation with Quinn.

"Fun," Quinn sighed and set down her book. It was a brownish orange, tattered and frayed along its paperback binding, but the way she held it enabled me to see the cover. The title read _The Voyage of the Dawn Treader _and there was a ship on it. She moved her hand before I could read the rest of the upside-down letters.

"Have you read it a lot?" I asked and pointed to the book.

"Oh." Quinn looked down and shook her head. "No, I got it from the bookstore I work at. It's used. I haven't read the books in forever."

"Books?" I tilted my head to the side.

"The Chronicles of Narnia?" Quinn held up the book so I could see it better. Now that she held it upright, I could make out more of the details on the book. I remembered seeing those movies and a soft smile spread across my lips.

"I like Aslan," I said quickly. "He's my favorite."

"Same," Quinn said. "My camp counselor read _The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe_ to us one summer when I was a kid, and I was hooked ever since. Someone came in last week and donated the whole set. I couldn't help but take them home."

I grinned. Whenever I had managed to get Quinn to talk about books, she always seemed to brighten up and it was easier to talk to her. That must have been why Rachel tried to keep us on topic of the books rather than ask about school.

"Have you read the books?" Quinn asked.

"Oh... no, I haven't," I said, my eyes falling to back the ground. I felt like my window of opportunity to get to know more about Quinn just snapped shut. "I watched the movies."

"You should read them," Quinn said, twisting in her seat as she reached for her bag. "Do a comparative like you did with _Alice in Wonderland_." She sat up and handed me an equally tattered book.

"I thought the first book was _The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe_," I said as I took the book from her. It read _The Magician's Nephew_.

"It was the first to be written and published," Quinn said with a nod. "But C.S. Lewis wrote this one later, and it's the first of the series."

"Oh?" I rose a brow as I looked at the book.

"It's really good." Quinn smiled. "You'll like it, especially if you liked _Alice in Wonderland_."

"Thanks," I said quietly. Maybe things with Quinn would work out after all. "Maybe I can convince Santana to read it to me."

"Why would you do that?" Rachel asked.

"'Cause her voice is really sexy," I muttered before a small smile spread over my lips. Rachel let out a small huff that I guessed must have been a stifled laugh and Quinn shook her head disapprovingly.

"Oh, yeah," Quinn said as she settled back into her seat and turned the page of her book. "Santana left for work."

"What?" Rachel and I both shot up.

"Why didn't you stop her?" Rachel snapped.

"She's sick!" I shouted.

"Have _you_ ever tried to tell Santana what she can and can't do?" Quinn said as she dropped her book into her lap. Rachel's shoulders slumped and I looked down at the ground.

After a moment, I looked sheepishly up at Quinn with a small smile on my face. "So...does that mean the roommate agreement is just a formality?" Rachel shot up and then threw her hand out at me, but I leaned back to avoid it.

"Stay out of my room!"

* * *

><p>"What are you doing here?" Tina set aside the glass she was holding and leaned forward on the bar as Santana walked past her towards the back. "Quinn said you were sick."<p>

"Keyword, _was_." Santana shrugged as she waved her hand at Tina and took off her jacket. "I'm fine."

"It's dark as hell in here, and even I can see how pale you look," Tina said. "You should go home if you're sick."

"I've missed enough work," Santana said as she walked around and joined Tina behind the bar. "I'll be fine, Brittany took care of me."

"Aw. Did she play nurse?" Tina winked and Santana shoved her not so lightly with her elbow. "Ow ow, okay, sorry."

"Go back to your station," Santana growled as she waved her hands at Tina.

"No love," Tina sighed.

"Not for you," Santana said. Tina froze for a second and then twisted to face Santana, leaning back against the bar. A small smile crept on her lips.

"So Mike said you two had a fight? But things worked out? Come on, spill, what happened?"

"We weren't fighting," Santana frowned as her brow furrowed. "This is why I don't tell you things. You're too nosy."

"Well, sorry for being interested in your relationships." Tina rolled her eyes. "If you don't wanna talk about it, I'll just go back to the front. All by myself. Alone."

"Shut up," Santana said and her lips cracked into a small smile.

"So...? Should I stay or should I go?"

"You can stay," Santana murmured. "Look, long story short, Brittany had a bad day and got really scared about us. It's fine. We talked about it."

"What kind of bad day?" Tina's brow furrowed. "I mean, stuff doesn't just go from fine to bad to fine again."

"Those girls from her class," Santana said quietly. One of the customers at the end of the bar rose his hand at Santana and she nodded. "Tina, come on, I have to work. We're fine. We're great, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Tina nodded. "When we're not so busy, I'm here. If you wanna talk."

"Mm," Santana hummed as moved to the end of the bar.

Like usual on Saturdays, the bar was quickly filling up. Santana recognized a lot of the people as regulars, but there were always new faces. It was good. She liked when it was busy, because it meant more drinks to serve and more tips to make.

"Yer moving a lil' slow tonight, Santana," Rory said as he poured a glass next to her. She shook her head lightly and lifted her hand reassuringly.

"I'm good," she said and gave him a small smile.

"You want to swap spots?" Rory usually took care of restocking while Santana managed the bar, picking up the slack when it was busy. Santana shook her head.

"I've got it, Rory," Santana said.

"It's okay, if you want to rest," Rory said. "Tina said you might not come in."

"It's Saturday, Rory, I can't," Santana sighed. "But thanks for offering."

"No worries, yeah?" Rory patted her on the back. "Heard you were having some problems with yer friend."

"No problems," Santana smiled softly. "We're good."

"Brittany?"

"Yeah, Brittany," Santana nodded.

"No." Rory squeezed his hand on her shoulder and gestured towards the door. Santana looked up and her smile grew into a wide grin.

* * *

><p>I spotted Santana across the nearly packed space of the bar. When she caught sight of me, her smile was so bright, I almost forgot I was there to scold her. I shoved my way through the small crowd, held back a bit only because Rachel was clinging to my jacket sleeve.<p>

"Santana, you're not supposed to be working," I said as I reached the bar.

"Oh no," Santana said, her grin barely wavering. "I've been caught."

"I'm serious! You should be sleeping." My voice was a little strained, and I felt my brow furrow as I pouted. Santana leaned against the counter, and I almost expected her to lean forward and kiss me. Instead, she just kept gazing at me with this toothy smile on her face. It was hard to tell she was sick to begin with considering how happy she looked.

"I'm tired of laying in bed all day," Santana said. "I needed to be up and about."

"You're not supposed to when you're sick," I said. I was pushed to the side as Quinn and Rachel squeezed between people and sat down at the bar.

"You left me all alone," Santana said as she shook her head.

"So what, I'm supposed to keep an eye on you twenty-four seven?"

"Yes?" Santana eyed me, and I couldn't tell if she was serious or not. I tried to keep my expression stern, but it was hard not to smile when she was grinning so brightly.

"As adorable as this is," Quinn said flatly and pointed between us. "You do realize you have like four people over there trying to order drinks, right?"

"Shit," Santana hissed. "Why don't you all get a table? I'll stop over when it's not so busy."

"You really shouldn't be working so hard, Santana," I murmured. She paused and placed her hand over mine.

"I'm feeling a million times better, okay?" She smiled softly. "Go sit at one of the booths. I'll make you something to drink."

I would have protested, but she gave me a wink that made me feel like I would have melted into a puddle if she wasn't holding my hand. I gave her a slow nod and felt Rachel tug on my arm. Quinn hooked her arm in my other one and both of them pushed and pulled me through the crowd while I kept my eyes on Santana. She stared back at me for a second before her attention was drawn away by one of the customers at the bar.

"You're hopeless," Quinn murmured as she pulled me into the booth.

"Only because she's in love," Rachel said and scrunched her nose at me. I felt my cheeks flush and I looked down at the table.

"Well, we're here now, so we might as well get something to drink," Quinn said.

"No, no, I have a performance tomorrow," Rachel shook her head.

"Then you can drive us home," Quinn said as she grabbed the drink menu. I leaned to the side to look over Quinn's shoulder at the pamphlet and she held it open more for me.

"You know the worst part about working at a bar?"

The three of us looked up to see Tina standing over us before she slid into the seat next to Rachel.

"You can't drink on the clock?" I asked.

"You can't drink on the clock," Tina laughed and nodded. "And you guys only ever drink when I'm working."

"I'm not drinking," Rachel said.

"And I came here for Santana," I agreed.

"I'm here because I have a car," Quinn grumbled.

"You didn't have to come with us, we could have taken the subway," Rachel said with a frown. I was kind of glad Rachel said something, because Quinn's attitude was so hard to predict.

"I'm kidding." Quinn rolled her eyes as she set down the menu. "How are you, Tina?"

"Can't really complain," Tina said with a shrug. "We're busy, but I'm on my break right now, since Santana is here."

"I guess it would have sucked for you guys if Santana hadn't shown up, huh?" Quinn said as she sat back in the booth.

"Yeah, but to be honest, she's not making that much of a difference," Tina sighed. "How sick was she earlier?"

"I don't know, it was kinda hard to tell with her macking on this one," Quinn said, gesturing to me with her thumb. I felt my face get hot.

"W-we weren't-" I protested, but Tina let out a laugh.

"So they _did_ tell you," Tina said brightly.

"It was sort of necessary," Quinn said quietly. I saw out of the corner of my eye that she flicked her eyes up to me and then looked back down at the menu. "Although, I'm really glad that they did."

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner," I muttered, but part of me was actually a little sorry she knew at all.

"No, it's fine," Quinn said and waved her hand. "I'm still a bit caught off guard by it. And I wish Santana hadn't had to hide it for so long, but... neither of you did anything wrong."

"Of course not," Tina said. "They're adorable together."

I could feel the warmth in my face as I blushed. Tina and Quinn laughed and I looked to Rachel. She gave me a sympathetic smile, but before she could say anything, a glass was placed in front of me.

"Here you go, Britt-Britt," Santana said cheerfully. She crouched down and squeezed in next to me, sitting on the edge of the seat casually as she leaned into me. "What are you all talking about?"

"You," Tina said as her lips curled into a grin. "And how cute you are."

"Sorry, Tina," Santana said, grasping my hand tightly in hers. "I'm happily taken."

Quinn let out a not-so-courteous laugh and Rachel managed to stifle hers with her hand. Tina suddenly looked more embarrassed than I had felt just a moment before.

"I am _too_," Tina muttered. I'd felt a little uneasy with Quinn and Tina, but now that Santana was here, it was a lot better. I leaned into her and squeezed her hand.

"What is this?" I asked, pointing to the drink.

"Try it." Santana nudged me.

"It's not gross, is it?" I eyed her suspiciously.

"No, it's good," Santana laughed. "I promise. Definitely nothing like your soda concoction."

"Her what?" Rachel asked.

"Brittany mixed all the sodas," Santana said and rolled her eyes. "It was awful."

"The cherry was good," I said as I picked the cherry out of the drink and held it out for Santana.

"You don't want it?" Santana asked.

"I want to see if you can tie it in a knot too," I grinned. Santana's cheeks went crimson as her jaw dropped. I took the opportunity and popped the cherry towards her open mouth. She hummed in protest, but her lips closed around it.

"Bri'any," she said as she covered her mouth.

"You know the bar is really busy," Quinn said. "And we haven't ordered drinks yet."

"Shut up, Quinn, I wanna see this," Tina hissed. Santana furrowed her brow and wrinkled her nose at Tina as she chewed and swallowed the cherry.

"Fuck," Santana muttered. She held up her hand to gesture she needed a moment, and we all stared at her intently. After a good twenty or thirty seconds, she stuck out her tongue to show off the tied stem.

"_Wanky_," I whispered, and she jerked forward as she spat out the stem. "But I already knew you were an amazing kisser."

"_Brittany_," Santana hissed.

"Why are you embarrassed?" Tina laughed. "It's not like we don't know what goes on between you two."

Santana stood up and swatted at Tina's head with her hand. "Just because it's true doesn't mean it's something I need you three talking about," Santana grumbled.

"But you agree?" I chirped. "That you're an amazing kisser?"

Santana paused and glanced at everyone else. Then, she shrugged and tilted her head to the side as she smirked. "I won't contest that," she said and winked. "Drink your drink. Quinn, what do you want? A cosmo? Rachel?"

"Just water," Rachel said, stretching her hands out in front of her. Quinn nodded and Santana spun on her heels after she gave me another wink.

"What is that?" Rachel asked as I held the glass Santana had brought me up to my lips.

"I don't know," I said, taking a sip. It was really sweet, but I had a hard time figuring out what it was. "Here, you try."

"Oh no, don't," Quinn said. "She's too much of a lightweight, and knowing Santana, she made it strong."

"Then you try," I said, pushing the glass towards her. She took it gingerly, staring at it for a second before taking a sip.

"Mm, that's pineapple?" Quinn said. "It kinda tastes like coconut too."

"A bahama mama," Tina said. "Santana likes those."

Quinn handed me back the drink and I took a bigger gulp of it. Santana was always spot on with making me drinks, whether they were alcoholic or not. It was really, really good.

"So I haven't seen you two in a while," Tina said, pointing to Quinn and Rachel. "Well, we hung out earlier this week, Rach."

"Yeah, some stuff happened," Rachel shrugged.

"I heard about Finn," Tina said. Rachel started to explain more about what happened in detail with Finn. She explained that Kurt had been calling out of work to try to keep Finn from seeing her and that after the night he had shown up at our apartment, Kurt had taken him back to the airport once he sobered up. I stopped paying attention when she got more into the details of what I had been present for and started to stare out through the crowd to try to catch glimpses of Santana as she bustled around the bar. I hadn't even realized until she came back with the drinks for Quinn and Rachel that my glass was empty.

"Britt, you inhaled that," Santana laughed as she grabbed my empty glass.

"I didn't mean to," I said, staring blankly at her hands.

"It's okay, you're supposed to drink it," Santana said. "So you liked it?"

"Yes," I said happily. "It was yummy."

"I'll get you another one," she said with the sweetest smile before quickly disappearing again.

"You're glowing," Tina said.

I looked up at her. "What?"

"Any time Santana comes over, you get this goofy grin on your face," Rachel laughed. "It's cute."

"That's not true," I murmured, trying my best not to smile like an idiot.

"Yeah it is, you get all bright eyed and cheerful," Quinn said. "Not that you aren't already exuberantly bubbly to begin with."

I looked at Quinn, my brow furrowed. Despite how much of a compliment it should have been, it didn't really sound like it when she said it with such a monotone voice. I also didn't know what the word 'exuberantly' meant, and it made me feel a little sheepish.

"Honestly, I don't know how I didn't see that you two were dating before," Rachel sighed, flicking her hand in the air at me.

"How _did_ you find out before me?" Quinn asked.

"I think we'd all like to know that," Santana said. I looked up as she sat down next to me again, handing me another bahama mama.

"That was fast," Quinn said as she rose a brow.

"It's settled down over there." Santana shrugged and waved over to Rory. "So how did Rachel find out, hm?" Santana leaned forward and wrinkled her nose at me, but luckily I had enough sense to resist the urge to kiss her. I wasn't sure what we were okay doing in public, especially since Santana had been so adamant about being in control of who we told. Not to mention this was her workplace. Although, that hadn't really been anything we worried about at _my_ workplace.

"I stumbled upon her in just her underwear and your hoodie," Rachel said as she lifted her glass of water to her lips. She took a sip and set it down, smiling sympathetically at me. "I promised not to say anything."

"When was this?" Santana said, twisting to look at me more.

"Monday morning," I murmured sheepishly. "I thought it was Sunday and that no one would be up."

"Don't be embarrassed," Rachel said. "It all worked out. Besides, it's really exciting! I'm so glad that you got to share stuff with me, Brittany. I never thought Santana could be such a sweet and nice person."

"She's definitely _sweet_," I cooed, turning to Santana as I smiled and wiggled my eyebrows. Santana let out a huff through her nose as she rolled her eyes, but she started giggling too.

"Oh, that's mature," Rachel sighed. "I wasn't talking about _that_!"

"That as in _sex_, Rachel? You can say the word sex," Santana said as she leaned back and crossed her arms.

"It's more I don't want to think about you two," Rachel said quickly as she lifted both her hands up to the sides of her face. "Doing... _sex_ things!"

"Such quick progress," Santana laughed. "Don't worry, we won't talk about it. It's nice to know that our sex life doesn't tickle _your_ fancies. Although that might not be the same for the rest of you." Santana arched her brow at Tina, and I heard a loud thunk as Tina kicked Santana from underneath the table.

"Get back to work, Santana," Tina hissed.

"Why aren't you working?" Santana growled as she stood up, placing her palms on the table.

"I'm on my break," Tina scowled. "I've been here a lot longer than you have."

"Fine, whatever," Santana said as she rolled her eyes. "You let me know if you want another drink or if they're bothering you, okay Britt?"

"I'm fine," I said softly as I took a sip of my drink. "You should take a break if you get tired."

"I'm _fine_," Santana mimicked and waved as she went back to the bar. I watched as Rory said something to her and she shoved him on the shoulder playfully. Quinn scooted up in her seat a little bit and started to ask Tina more about Myrtle Beach and how her date with Mike went on the boardwalk. I was only half listening. I probably wouldn't even have listened at all if I hadn't wanted to know what sorts of things Mike did for Tina. He was a good boyfriend. The kind of boyfriend I would want to be if I was a boy. So maybe the kind of girlfriend I could be if Mike was a girl. I got lost in thinking about that, and before I knew it, my second bahama mama was gone.

Santana must have been keeping an eye on me, because she came back over with a new drink almost immediately after I noticed my glass was empty. She said something about Rory complaining about her insisting on working and then her getting distracted by us, so she only stayed for a second to hand me my drink and give my hand a light squeeze. I was just happy to see her, and it wasn't like she was completely far away, but I did miss her when she was back behind the bar. It was silly, but I stared longingly after her, getting lost in thoughts about what we could do after she got off work. The buzzing reminder that she probably wasn't feeling well enough to do any of those things quickly faded as I finished my third drink. Or was it my fourth? How long had Tina been sitting with us and how long was a break? I stared at the empty glass and furrowed my brow.

"Brittany, when was the last time you had anything to eat?" Rachel's voice sounded muffled, and I looked up and gave her the same confused look I had given my drink.

"Huh?"

"You're wobbling back and forth," Rachel giggled. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," I waved my hand at her. "I'm great. What?"

"When did you eat last?" Tina asked, patting my hand gently.

"I dunno," I shook my head, but the movement was really disorienting. I stopped almost immediately after and tried not to look too off-balanced. "Yesterday, I had, like, a bagel."

"You didn't eat any of the soup we made?" Rachel asked.

"I don't remember," I said honestly. I looked over to Quinn. Her glass was nearly empty, but in the time we'd been sitting there, I didn't remember Santana coming over at all to give her a new drink.

"Is she drunk?" Rachel whispered, but it wasn't really a whisper, because I could hear it.

"Well, she's gotta just be buzzed," Quinn said, tapping my arm gently with her hand. "Otherwise, her clothes would be off."

"Should they be?" I asked. Why would my clothes be off? I looked down at my shirt. Santana wasn't here, so that didn't make sense. Did I need to take them off? Maybe I spilled something on myself. I reached at the bottom of my shirt and started to tug on it lightly. Quinn's hand shot out and covered mine.

"No, no," Quinn laughed. "Please, keep them on."

"Okay," I nodded. That wasn't as bad as shaking my head back and forth, but it still made the room kind of spin. Why did Quinn bring up taking my clothes off if I was supposed to keep them on?

"We're lucky Santana's busy," Tina laughed. "Or else she'd be taking full advantage of this situation, right now."

"She wouldn't," I said. My brow furrowed when I realized I wasn't sure if that came out right at all. I thought I said wouldn't, but it kind of sounded like I said would. I paused and stared hard at my glass again. "She's not like that."

"I was joking," Tina said gently.

"Well, she's not like that," I repeated, a little louder. I knew I was getting louder because Tina's eyes widened a little. "We didn't do it that first time cause I was drunk. She... wanted it to be special."

"Brittany," Rachel said softly, and I looked up at her quickly. She had extended her hand across the table to grab mine and squeezed it gently. "We know. That Santana's a good person. They were kidding. Let's change topics, okay?"

"No." I shook my head. "It's not funny."

"No, it wasn't." Rachel nodded. "And it's good that Santana wanted it to be special."

"Santana just has a history of... drinking and stuff," Quinn said at my side. "It wasn't a comment we made at your expense, Brittany. We know you two dating is a different sort of relationship. We're happy about that."

"You don't act like it," I said, shrinking back as Quinn tried to pat my arm. "Neither of you do," I said, pointing at Quinn first and then to Tina.

"Of course we're happy-" Tina started, but I slapped my hand on the table and cut her off.

"Then why is it that you guys are always messing with us?" I demanded. "You didn't want us to stay in the same room after you found out." I tossed my hand up at Tina and then waved to Quinn. "And you...you think I don't love Santana."

"I didn't say that," Quinn frowned.

"But you think it!" I snapped. "You said I was a bad girlfriend!"

"Brittany, calm down," Quinn murmured. "You're taking this the wrong way."

"So what if I am?" I said loudly. "None of you have the right to tell me or Santana how to feel or what to do about our relationship!"

"We're just trying to look out for you two," Tina said. "Like we always have. For Santana."

"Well, that's not your job!" I slapped my hand to my chest. "It's my responsibility. I'd be a good girlfriend if everyone would just leave us alone."

"You are a good girlfriend," Tina nodded.

"That's not what Quinn said!" I exclaimed and spun to glare at Quinn. "You don't think I can take care of her. Why? Is it 'cause I'm not as smart as you? That I'm not as pretty? I know I'm not, but I _love _Santana!"

"Brittany-" Quinn stared at me like a deer in headlights. She always looked sort of doe-eyed, but I couldn't quite read the expression on her face. Shock, for one, but then her eyes darted up and past me.

"Are you ladies alright?" The voice came from my side, and it was with such a heavy accent I could barely understand it. I whipped around and nearly stumbled back as Rory held his hand out to catch me, but then another pair of hands grabbed me from behind.

"Why are you guys causing a scene?" Santana hissed, squeezing my arms tightly. I twisted around and grabbed Santana's hands.

"I don't care," I said loudly. Santana looked a little stunned and stepped forward as I leaned into her. "I love you."

"I... I know, Britt," Santana whispered quietly. Her eyes darted behind me, and I didn't know even know why.

"She's a little drunk, S," Tina murmured. Santana nodded and her brow wrinkled as she smiled weakly at me. Even though she was smiling, I wasn't convinced that she understood what I said. It wasn't funny, it was serious. I loved Santana, so much.

"Let's get you some water-" She started, but I didn't want water. I wanted her to understand me, and know that I meant what I said. I tugged her hands closer to me as I quickly leaned forward, pressing my lips to hers. It was the only way I could think of to get her to believe me.

"Britt!" Santana gasped as she pulled back. I frowned and furrowed my brow as I inched towards her again. That wasn't how she was supposed to react when I kissed her. Was I kissing her wrong now too? It was confusing because she pulled her head away from mine, but her grasp on my hand tightened. I stumbled when she pulled me forward and I glanced back to see everyone staring wide-eyed at me, including Rory.

Santana dragged me to the back of the bar, and even though I felt like I'd done something wrong, I couldn't help the small smile that crept onto my lips when Santana yanked me into a closed off section of the bar. The sign on the door said 'Employees Only.' Maybe she had understood what I meant, after all. When the door closed behind her, I stumbled towards her and tried to kiss her again, but she stopped my attempts to kiss her lips by straining her head to the side. My lips crashed against the skin of her neck instead.

"Brittany," Santana exclaimed. I stopped kissing her and nudged my nose against her neck, but she grabbed me by my shoulders and forced a small amount of space between us. "Britt, babe, what are you doing?"

"I love you," I murmured. I looked sheepishly up at her and realized I was clinging to her for support. The way her brow knit together made me think that I had misinterpreted why she had brought me to the back here. She gently pressed her forehead to mine and let one hand slide away from my arm to cup my cheek.

"I love you too, but why were you yelling at everyone?" Santana whispered.

"I wasn't yelling at Rachel," I said softly. "Rachel's cool. I like Rachel."

"Okay," Santana nodded, making my head wobble a bit. "But why were you yelling?"

"Because I love you..." I whined. Why didn't Santana understand that? It was really frustrating. "And they don't... they don't think that I do."

"Of course they do," Santana said reassuringly. "And it doesn't matter what they think, okay? I love you, too."

"It doesn't matter," I nodded. "'Cause you're my girlfriend." I nudged my nose to hers. "Mine."

"Yours and yours only," Santana whispered softly. She let her hand stroke up and down my cheek. I sighed and leaned into her more. Her other hand dropped from my arm and wrapped around me. She kissed me lightly and held there for a moment.

"You're _my_ girlfriend," I repeated in a soft murmur against her lips. I felt her smile and she let out an audible breath of air that must have been a small laugh.

"Sh, sh," she cooed. "I am. And you're mine. It's okay."

"...I didn't mean to drink so much," I sighed.

"That's my fault," Santana said, backing up a little as she tilted my chin up. "I shouldn't have made you so many drinks."

"They were really good," I said quietly. "I liked them a lot."

"That's good," Santana laughed.

"Not as much as I like you," I whispered, leaning forward to kiss her again. This time she didn't stop me. Instead, she let out a content hum and brushed her fingers from against the side of my face up and through my hair. She scratched her fingers gently against my scalp and it was so soothing that I all but melted into her. I broke our kiss to breathe and snuggle closer to her.

"Do you want me to take you home, sweetheart?" Santana asked quietly. It made my heart flutter that she called me that.

"You're working," I muttered.

"It's fine, I'm tired anyway," Santana said.

"You said you were feeling better."

"I am," Santana laughed. "But I should take you home."

"You can't," I said, and tried to lift my head off of where it rested in the crook of her neck, but it felt so heavy.

"Why's that?"

"I just kissed you," I said. "I was drinking and stuff. You might get drunk."

"That's... not how alcohol works," Santana laughed.

"But it said in that one song..." I hummed as I nuzzled my cheek into her. It was hard to remember the words. "...take me by the tongue and I'll know you," I tried to sing, but I was off tune. "Kiss me till you're drunk and ...something..."

"Not everything works like it does in the song, Britt," Santana chuckled. "I'll take you home, okay?"

"Okay," I nodded. I wasn't sure why I tried to stop her. I wanted her to come home. She needed to sleep. But I also wanted to stay as close as I could to her right now. She lowered her hands to my waist, and I tried to stand up a little straighter. Instead, I got distracted and leaned up to catch her lips again in mine.

Her lips were so soft, and they tasted even better than the drink Santana had made me. Was that her lip gloss, or did Santana just taste amazing? I tried to ask without separating our lips, but a low hum came out instead. Her fingers dug into my sides and I giggled when her tongue ran over my lips. I wondered if my lips tasted good too. I pressed into her a little harder, and she stumbled backwards beneath my weight.

"Britt," Santana gasped softly as she pulled away again. A whine escaped my throat as I kissed down her jaw and onto her neck. I couldn't even remember what we were talking about or why we were in this tiny storage closet. All I cared about was that her skin tasted amazing as my tongue ran over it. Her fingers dug into my back again and she let out a sharp breath when I wiggled my fingers beneath her tank top. She said something, but I was too immersed in how wonderful her skin felt and tasted and smelled.

"Hmm?" I murmured against her neck. My hand beneath her shirt gripped at the skin over her ribs as the other dug into the fabric of her jeans that covered her ass. She let out another gasp when I pushed her up against the wall.

"N-not now, Britt," Santana breathed. I paused against her neck, keeping my lips still. Tina and Quinn were so wrong about Santana. Even now that we were dating, she didn't want to take advantage of me.

"It's okay," I exhaled wetly against her skin. "Really."

"Brittany," Santana whispered. "I think you're misunderstan-"

I nibbled on her earlobe, and she drew in a sharp breath as she squirmed beneath my weight.

"-ing. I want to-"

"Then let's-"

"-Britt, I'm at work," Santana moaned as I pressed my palm over her breast. Her hands moved from my waist to grab my arms, but before she managed to pry them away, I leaned up to kiss her lips again. She said she wanted to, so I didn't understand why she was being so resistant. She hummed as I tried to deepen the kiss, and I heard her head thump against the wall.

"Santana, are you alri-"

Santana tore away from my lips and I could feel her whole body tensing beneath me as the door burst open behind us.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**I'm really sorry for how long it took to update. I know it's the longest break I've had, but I just finished training at my new job (I'm an RA again! And back in San Francisco! :] ). I'm not sure what my schedule will be like, but I think I should be able to write more now that I'm home and have my own space.**

**This chapter was really difficult to write, and I'm sorry about that. I had to rewrite the bulk of the chapter because it was just terrible, and I'm glad I did, because it took a completely different direction.**

**Songs:**

**Take Care by Drake ft. Rihanna - watch?v=-zzP29emgpg**

**Other Notes:**

**I have a twitter account...! It's chromeheartbeat (since monochrome is apparently too long). **

* * *

><p><strong>Answering some questions:<strong>

**eshel15:** Santana and Brittany have not had sex in anyone else's rooms; Santana, prior to the start of ITYTD, crashed into Rachel's room drunkenly once with a stranger. While Rachel was home. It was a very traumatizing experience, and it's the reason there was a no-boys clause in their roommate agreement.

**hlnwst: **I'm sorry you had an experience like that, but I'm glad you are able to empathize. :[

**Brittana was ALWAYS on:** 2) I'm not going to confirm or deny Faberry. I don't ship it personally, but it's not that I'm against it either. I try to just portray the characters as accurately as I can, and I think that is something fans see in the show, so they'll also see it in ITYTD. 3) No, I don't think so. I've never heard Payphone before though. 4) Yes, Q and B will have their talk. A serious one, not a drunken one. Eventually. 5) I'm very sorry I didn't update, but thank you for being patient. 6) ITYTD won't be addressing their families. Not in the sense that their families are directly involved; Brittany and Santana are adults in this story, so they aren't as reliant on their parents expectations of them... I'm not saying it isn't important. Just not something I'm going to touch at this time.

**Rosetoast:**I love you, but I can't tell you why. Also, I would LOOOVE to know more about how Juilliard actually works, because it IS important for the last few chapters that I'm as accurate as possible when it comes to writing that. Would you mind if I messaged you privately? Or whatever.

* * *

><p><strong>From Wonderland (my beta):<strong>

So, since the last update: HeeBee started training for her job, I got a new job, and the forces of the universe decided to turn this chapter against us. Which made us start over and rewrite basically everything. Well forces of the universe, I now salute you with my middle finger because WE DID IT! :D


	37. An Us Day

"Rory!" Santana gasped, and suddenly, my hand was torn from under her shirt. My head fell to the crook of her neck, despite my attempts to stay upright, my whole body slumped into her. I was sure that with how tense she had gotten and how tightly she was gripping my arms that she was going to force me to stand up, but instead, she twisted to look down at me and let go of my arms long enough to wrap her hands around my waist.

"S-Santana," Rory stuttered. I barely heard him. I was so focused on trying not to make Santana look incriminating, but it was a little too late for that. I pushed my face against her shoulder, as if that would somehow help me stand up on my own. It didn't work. Instead, she held me tighter. A frustrated groan escaped my lips, but it came out muffled and quiet.

"Shit," Santana exhaled. I peered up at her and saw her brow furrow and she wasn't looking at me or Rory. She was staring down at the ground, biting her lower lip.

"Santana, this is _really_ inappropriate," Rory said. I heard a shuffle, and I assumed he took a step towards us. Santana's hold on me got even tighter, and her heart was pounding rapidly. I tried again to stand up. If I could get up on my own, or not be pressed up against her, maybe she would be able to calm down. I ended up tilting too far to the side and stumbling.

"Fuck," I hissed, burying my face in her arms again when she pulled me up.

"This is... really... not a good ti-" Santana started and then I felt her shake her head. "I just... she's drunk, Rory, I-"

"I can see that," Rory sighed. He took another step towards us, and Santana's fingers dug into my sides. A second later, they loosened, and I was being picked up and out of her embrace.

"I don't... wanna," I murmured, but then Santana caught my hand and gave it a squeeze. Rory shifted me in his arms so that he could hold me properly, and I all but collapsed. It was such a relief not to have to try to stand upright.

In what felt like no time at all, Santana was opening the passenger door to her car. She took over helping me into the seat, lifting my legs up into the car and buckling me in. Her face was stern, but also looked sad. I caught her hand and held it tightly as I stared up at her. Her expression softened immediately and she gave me a weak smile.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. She shook her head and leaned forward, placing a small kiss on my cheek.

"It's okay, Britt," she said softly. "It's fine, just stay here."

"Where are you going?" I murmured. I didn't want her to leave. I was in her car, and she had to drive. Why was she leaving?

"I'll be right back, okay?" Santana said, gripping my hand a little tighter. "I promise, just please stay in your seat. And keep your clothes on. Can you do that for me?"

"Y-yeah," I nodded. "I'll be good."

"You always are," Santana said, letting out a small huff as her smile widened. She stood up and let go of my hand, and after a second, the door closed. I exhaled softly and leaned towards it, letting my head rest against the cold glass.

* * *

><p>Santana let out a small sigh as her smile faded. Her eyes closed, and she held her hand against the passenger door for a moment as she attempted to compose herself.<p>

"Was it _inappropriate_ because we're both _girls_?" Santana asked quietly. She stared at her reflection in the window before lifting her head and pulling her hand away from the door. "Because I'm not... I'm not going to apologize for that."

Santana twisted around, letting her fingers drag against the side of her car as she took a step towards Rory and slowly looked up.

"Brittany is my girlfriend," Santana said as she shrugged and shook her head. "I'm not sorry for trying to console her when she's upset, and I don't want to work somewhere that can't accept that."

Rory crossed his arms over his chest and let out an audible breath of air before he tilted his head up to look at the sky. "It's not because you're both girls, Santana." He let out a small laugh and shook his head.

"It's just... wow." He dropped one of his hands and rubbed over his mouth and chin. "It's inappropriate 'cause it's the employee storage room, Santana. What you were doin' was inappropriate, guy or gal."

"Oh." Santana's cheeks flushed and she averted her gaze.

"I'm not stupid. I may be from another country, but it doesn't mean I can't see," Rory said, waving his hand lightly towards the car, where Brittany could be seen slumped against the glass of the window. "I hear the conversations you and Tina have. And I see the way you two look at each other. I don't like to assume, but it's also why I didn't ask Brittany for her number."

"You..." Santana tilted her head to the side and her brow furrowed. "What?"

"I mean, and then you had her behind the bar and-"

"No. Pause. Rewind. _What_?" Santana stepped forward and jabbed her finger at his chest as she glared up at him. "Ask for her number?"

"I didn't!" Rory said defensively. "I get it. I backed off. She's taken."

"Good boy," Santana growled, patting him rather hard at the same spot she had jabbed him. She twisted and leaned against her car, crossing her arms as Rory mimicked her. They stood in silence for a moment, and then Rory cleared his throat.

"She's a lucky gal," Rory said, nudging Santana lightly with his elbow. "You're quite the catch, y'know. Every night you're workin', we hafta fight guys back 'cause o' you."

Santana let out a huff through her nose as her lips spread into a grin. "They don't."

"Yeah, they do."

"Brittany isn't the lucky one," Santana shook her head. "I am."

"You're both fortunate, in my humble opinion," Rory said with a shrug.

Santana laughed and nodded. "Yeah, I guess we are." She looked back up at the sky and let out a soft sigh.

"So, does that mean I get to keep my job?"

"If you keep from snogging your girlfriend in the storage closet, yeah," Rory said, lifting his hand to ruffle her hair. She flicked her hand up at him, and he drew back. "Same rules apply to you and Brittany as they do to Tina and Mike, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," Santana laughed. "Roger that, Captain." Santana brought her hand up to her forehead and gave him a small salute.

"Good, 'cause my dad'll kill me if he finds out employees were doin' that."

"Shit, your dad," Santana murmured as she dropped her hand. "Rory, your dad's not... I mean, isn't he like hella religious?"

"I dunno my dad's stance on gays, Santana," Rory shrugged as shifted his weight against her car. "But he likes Kurt enough. Even asked for advice on the set up of the bar, 'member?"

"Heh, yeah, I do," Santana laughed softly and nodded.

"In any event, what he doesn't know doesn't hurt 'im," Rory laughed. "Not saying you should hide it, but I don' see why you even need to tell 'im. He's hardly around when you work."

"That's true," she said quietly and nodded her head. "Still, I'm... I'm really sorry that you walked in on us like that. I really didn't intend for it to happen, and I know there's no excuse-"

"It's fine," he said and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Just don't do it again."

"Oh." Santana pushed away from the car and looked up. "It is okay if I take her home, right? I don't want to call out again or anything-"

"I've been tryin' to get you to go home all night," Rory sighed. "Please do."

"Rory, you're amazing," Santana said and hopped up to give him a hug. He let out a small laugh and shook his head.

"Yeah, 'cept yer the one with a girlfriend," Rory sighed.

"You just gotta turn on that lucky charm, Flanagan," Santana laughed as she playfully punched his shoulder. She scampered around the car as he rubbed his arm.

"Aye, I'll need more than luck," he said. "Maybe some o' yours'll rub off?"

"Maybe." Santana winked and opened the door to her car.

"Hope you feel better." Rory waved lightly.

"Good luck with the rest of the night," Santana said and slipped into the car.

* * *

><p>My eyes fluttered open and I peeled my face off of a cold, smooth surface. I let out a loud sniff, and then I felt something squeeze my hand tightly. Looking down, I saw Santana's hand over mine. She glanced at me and smiled before returning her gaze to the road.<p>

"Hey," she said softly. I wriggled in my seat, shifting so that I could rest my head on her arm instead of the cold window.

"Hi," I mumbled.

"You alright?" Santana asked. When I didn't respond, I felt her squeeze my hand again. "Sweetie, are you feeling sick at all?"

"No," I murmured and buried my face against the soft skin of her arm. Her hand slipped out of mine and lifted to scratch gently at my neck.

"When did you eat last?"

"I dunno."

"Are you hungry?"

A small giggle bubbled in my throat and I nodded my face against her arm.

"What's funny?" Santana asked as I tried to nestle into her. I found her hand and clasped it tightly between both of mine.

"I'm definitely _hungry_," I whispered, lifting her hand to my lips and nibbling gently over her fingers. She let out a sharp squeal and slipped her hand out of mine to slap it gently.

"Britt!" she laughed. "Driving!"

"Sorry," I muttered and let my head rest against her shoulder again. She twisted her hand around and tangled her fingers in mine. When she squeezed my hand, I let out a soft, satisfied sigh.

"I am kinda hungry though," I said as innocently as I could.

"Heh," Santana huffed. I looked up at her and saw the smile on her face. "Okay. There's a McDonald's on this street. You want that?"

"Yes." I grinned and wiggled my face against her arm. "Can I get a happy meal?"

"You can get whatever you want," Santana said.

"I want a mighty kids meal," I murmured. "With a milkshake."

"For your fries?"

"Yes," I said with a nod.

Santana pulled the car into the drive-thru and proceeded to ask for my order. I sat up and insisted she get something for herself, so she ordered a different flavored milkshake. She drove forward and lifted her hand out the window to pay.

"Wait," I whispered, grabbing at her arm gently. "I want a boy's meal."

"Do you really care about the toy?" Santana frowned.

"Yes," I said. Santana stared at me, arching her brow, and I held my gaze at her seriously for a while.

"Can we get the boy's toy instead?" Santana said, breaking eye-contact with me to look at the teenage boy in the window.

Half a mighty kids meal and two empty milkshakes were left abandoned in the car as I peppered kisses along Santana's neck. She stumbled backwards out of the elevator, her hands gripping my waist as she laughed heartily.

"Britt, I know you're _hungry_, but I still have to get my keys," she giggled as I fell into her. I nipped at her playfully, and she continued to move down the hall, guiding me along as ungracefully as possible. She fumbled with her keys when I pressed her into the door, and I could only hear them jingling around as she tried to unlock the door with her back against it.

"Here," I murmured, slipping my hand from her back and firmly taking the keys away. I leaned into her, smirking lazily as I slipped the key into the lock and turning it. She stared down at me, her cheeks flushed as she took in and held a silent breath. I held there for a moment, exchanging her flustered gaze with an arch of my brow, until there was a tiny _click_ from the door. The instant it swung open, I snatched her lips in mine and pushed her through the doorway.

We stumbled on the stairs, our legs tangling together as I tried to kiss and move her at the same time. She latched her arms around me and I did my best not to let us fall too hard onto the steps.

"Britt," Santana murmured softly. I pulled back from her lips and gazed down at her. She had a wide grin on her face that I could only assume matched the foolish one I was wearing.

"Hm?" I hummed softly, brushing my nose against hers.

"You okay?"

"I'm great," I giggled.

Santana smiled and squeezed her arms around me. I realized after a second that she was pulling herself up, and I scooted back. She took my hands and helped me up, stepping backwards cautiously as she led me up the stairs. I stumbled quickly after her and I was rewarded with a bubbly laugh.

"You're still drunk," Santana giggled as we got to the top of the stairs. "I really shouldn't have made you all those drinks."

"I's okay," I said, leaning into her. She looked up at me and I grinned. "Tipsy, at the most."

"Yeah?" Santana arched her brow at me. "Walk for me then."

"Can't I dance instead?" I purred, keeping my body pressed up against hers. I swayed my hips as I dropped our hands at our sides. She let me wiggle against her, laughing as quietly as she could.

"Okay, maybe I am," I giggled as my wiggle dance turned into a stumble. She spread our hands out in the air and pressed her forehead to mine, a wide grin on her face as she stared back at me. She let her fingers tangle with mine and then tugged me backwards into my bedroom.

"I don't think you're gonna make it to my room," she whispered softly.

"I like your room," I murmured. "It's better than my room."

"Is not." Santana's brow furrowed and she wrinkled her nose at me before bumping it against mine. "And I don't care who's room we're in, as long as you're in it."

"Ughh," I groaned, pulling back from her and tossing my head back. "This is why you're awesome, Santana."

"What?" She held my hands firmly until I slowly rolled my head back towards her to look up at her.

"'Cause you're just good at... this," I murmured, nodding at her. "You're so good at being my girlfriend, Santana."

"For liking your room?" Santana laughed.

"No, for just... you," I said, scrunching up my nose. She leaned forward and kissed it.

"Just you for me too," Santana said softly. A sigh escaped my lips and she guided me towards my bed. I felt her hands slip out of mine and fasten firmly to my hips as she pulled me into her. It took me a second to realize she did that because she was letting me nestle on top of her as she laid down on the bed.

"I like your room," Santana whispered, lifting her hand to brush through my hair. I tilted my head to the side, placing my ear to her chest as I listened to both the steady rhythm of her heartbeat and the quiet sound of her breathing.

"It makes me feel safe," Santana said, tracing the fingers of her other hand over my back in small circles. "I've missed it, actually. We keep staying in my room."

I peeled my face slowly off her chest and looked down at her. She gave me a small, but warm smile.

"I like yours, though," I said quietly. "It's bigger, and you have posters and pictures everywhere."

"Do you want me to help you put up posters?" Santana asked.

"No," I sighed, pressing my forehead to hers as I pouted my lower lip.

"Pictures, then?" Santana giggled, tilting her chin up to press a kiss to my lips.

"We hardly have any," I murmured against her lips.

"We'll make more," she said, squeezing me tightly with her hands around my waist. "And I have old pictures you can have, too."

"I'd like that." I nodded and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. "I'd really like that."

"Mm," Santana hummed as she smiled into another kiss. I parted my lips, letting my tongue run briefly over hers. She stretched forward to deepen it, and her fingers dug into my skin. I giggled against her mouth, delving my tongue lazily against hers. She tasted like her milkshake had, and even though she said you couldn't get drunk off of kissing, I was sure I would have gotten drunk off of her. I already was kinda drunk, but I still think it would have worked that way. If you could, yanno, get drunk from a milkshake.

Maybe that's why kissing her felt so woozy. She breathed in sharply as I moved to kiss down her jaw, licking and sucking at every delicious spot on her skin. Her hands slid down my back and cupped my butt, pulling me up a little as I nestled into my favorite spot on her neck, just above her collarbone. It made her moan softly, and she tickled her fingers back up to tug gently on my pants. I stopped kissing her for a moment to flick my hair back and then pull off my shirt as she unbuttoned my pants. She helped me wiggle out of them and I dipped back down to kiss her neck. There was a tiny _flop_ as she tossed my clothes aside, and I giggled when I dragged my fingers to push her shirt up a bit up to expose her jeans.

"Britt," Santana murmured, again digging her fingers into the skin of my now-exposed back. I hummed my response as my own fingers found their way over the button of her pants. It took me a little longer to unlatch and unzip them, eliciting soft grunts and moans from Santana until we had her pants off too. I hummed lazily and kept focus on my kissing her neck.

"Britt?" Santana whispered softly. I nodded my head up a little, inhaling softly through my nose and continued to press my lips to her skin. Her clutch on my back loosened and she repeated my name quietly in my ear. My head felt too heavy to lift away from her.

"Are you falling asleep?" Santana asked. I tried to nod, or say something, but it felt so much better just to lay there with my eyes closed and my face cradled into the crook of her neck.

* * *

><p>Santana had carefully wriggled out from beneath Brittany, successfully scampered down the hall and returned with one purple, fluffy unicorn pillow without waking her. She was just placing the plush pet between Brittany's arms when a hand fastened around her fingers.<p>

"Shit," Santana mumbled, a small grin spreading over her face as she shifted on the mattress, staring down at the lithe form beside her. She watched as Brittany inched closer to her, as if drawn instinctively by body heat. A sigh escaped Brittany's lips, and she buried her face in waves of purple fluff.

"You are so going to feel miserable when you wake up," Santana whispered, leaning forward and pressing a delicate kiss to Brittany's temple, lingering for a second to breathe her in. She slipped her hand out of Brittany's grasp and sat up, brushing the same hand up through golden locks. She silently prayed that Brittany would out-sleep her hangover before sliding her legs off the side of the bed.

A wide smile spread over Santana's lips as she pulled a rather large hoodie from the back of Brittany's desk chair, shuffling her feet into fuzzy, brown slippers that looked like bear paws as she pulled the hooded Juilliard sweatshirt over her head. Once she made sure the length of Brittany's hoodie was long enough that it didn't require her to seek out more coverage, she tiptoed out of the room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

The claws of the bear paws on her feet clicked against the tile of the kitchen floor, forcing Santana to pause at the refrigerator to wiggle her toes. A series of clacks forced her to let out a small laugh as she rest her head against the door. She reached forward to grab the container of eggs from its shelf and the carton of milk before kicking the door closed with a clawed paw foot, only to reel back in surprise by the sudden appearance of one Rachel Berry.

"Jesus fuckingChrist," Santana exclaimed, stumbling backwards. Rachel quickly grabbed the eggs and milk as Santana stumbled into the kitchen island.

"Sorry, sorry," Rachel squeaked, shrinking back and wincing as she awaited the inevitable onslaught of curse words that Santana was bound to expel. Instead, Santana swiveled around to retrieve a frying pan from inside of the island.

"Thanks," Santana said softly, placing the pan on the stove and taking the eggs from Rachel's hands.

"Yeah..." Rachel nodded slowly, her brow furrowing as her head tilted to the side. Santana didn't appear to notice her reaction, and a small smile crept over her lips. She crossed her arms and leaned back on the counter as Santana bustled around the kitchen, pulling more pans and bowls out, along with pancake mix and even a package of sausages from the freezer.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked, letting out a breathy laugh.

"Making breakfast. What does it look like I'm doing?" Santana replied, not bothering to look up from the bowl of pancake mix she was stirring.

"It looks like a feast," Rachel said, observing how hardly any counter space was left in the kitchen.

"Brittany hasn't had a lot to eat the past two days." Santana shrugged her shoulders. "And she's probably going to feel like crap. Best cure for a hangover is pancakes."

"Who said that?" Rachel laughed.

"Brittany," Santana said softly, a small smile spreading over her lips. She paused in front of the refrigerator, standing with the door open before glancing back at Rachel. "Do you mind if I use some of your blueberries?"

"You're asking permission?" Rachel arched her brow. Santana stared meekly back at her, and Rachel let out a small laugh as she nodded her head. "Yes, you can."

"I won't use all of them," Santana promised. Once she grabbed the blueberries from the fridge and set them on the counter, she turned to the frying pan and started to ladle out the pancake mix. Rachel continued to watch quietly, observing Santana humming to herself as she poked blueberries into the exposed side of the pancake.

"I like the jammies," Rachel said, kicking her foot towards Santana and brushing her pink slipper against the giant bear paw slipper Santana was wearing. "If it wasn't for the dark hair, I would have thought you were Brittany."

"I..." Santana straightened up a little and tugged at the side of Brittany's Juilliard hoodie, ensuring her pantless butt wasn't exposed. "Well..."

"It's cute," Rachel mused.

"Yeah?" Santana looked over her shoulder at Rachel, and a small frown formed on her lips as her brow furrowed. She turned her attention back to the pancakes and shook her head. "I guess."

"It's just sweet. That you share clothes and stuff. You really care about her, don't you?"

"She is my girlfriend, after all," Santana said, gently nudging the pancake in the pan with her spatula to flip it. "Even if she wasn't my girlfriend, I'd still-" Santana started, but paused when she twisted to look at Rachel.

"What's with that face?"

"What face?" Rachel smiled.

"Your face," Santana said, smacking her spatula lightly against the stove top. "You're making that goofy face you get when you want to hug someone."

"Oh, nothing. I'm just thinking," Rachel said coyly.

"About what...?" Santana asked cautiously. "Okay, hold up. You're not harboring secret, same sex feelings for me, are you? Because I honestly cannot deal with everyone being gay and me not knowing." Santana held out her spatula threateningly as she twisted to fully face Rachel.

"What?" Rachel laughed. "No, of course not."

"Thank god," Santana groaned and rolled her eyes.

"I'm just really glad you are being open about how you feel about her," Rachel said, pushing off the counter and grabbing a blueberry. "She needed that. So much."

Santana stared quietly at Rachel for a moment, her brow crinkling slightly before she looked to the ground.

"How would you know?" Santana said quietly. "Like, no offense."

"No, I know." Rachel nodded. "Your pancake is gonna burn."

"Shit," Santana spat as she twisted to scoop the pancake off the pan. "Thanks. But seriously... what are you talking about?"

"I talked to her yesterday," Rachel said. "While you were asleep."

"About?"

"She's scared," Rachel shrugged. "About the two of you."

"Still?" Santana straightened. "But we talked... She's..."

"I don't exactly know why. It's like she doesn't think she's good enough for you," Rachel murmured.

Santana opened her mouth to speak, but instead let out a long sigh. She leaned back and shook her head as she closed her eyes.

"I don't... I don't know what to do," Santana admitted quietly. "I thought we were okay."

"You're not doing anything wrong," Rachel said reassuringly. "Brittany thinks you're amazing."

"I haven't done anything special," Santana said, furrowing her brow.

"You don't think so?" Rachel said, scooping some pancake mix in the ladle and pouring it on the empty pan in front of Santana. "Don't you think it's a little amazing?"

"Huh?"

"That this girl stumbles into your life, and suddenly your whole world is flipped upside down?" Rachel arched her brow.

"That makes her amazing, not me," Santana shook her head. "She's wonderful. I wish she would just see that."

"Says the girl that got into a fight for her," Rachel laughed. "I mean, three to one? I'm still impressed."

"She was so upset about that," Santana sighed.

"You two are ridiculously enamored by one another," Rachel frowned. "Is it really so hard to see that you both deserve each other?"

Santana looked up from the pan after poking more blueberries into the new pancake. "Like you even noticed until Brittany told you."

"I just wanted to make sure you knew what she told me," Rachel said.

"I appreciate that," Santana replied quietly as her head bobbed up and down. "I'm glad that Brittany seems to trust you, too. More than anything, Brittany needs to know that she can trust and rely on us. All of us."

Rachel pursed her lips and turned away from Santana as she looked at the ground.

"What?" Santana glanced up at Rachel after she flipped the pancake over.

"It's nothing."

"Tell me, Rachel," Santana said sternly. "Or I swear to god, I'll shove this non-vegan pancake down your throat."

Rachel stared timidly at her for a moment, assessing whether or not Santana was serious or not. She let out a small sigh and nodded. "I'm worried about Brittany and Quinn."

"Yeah," Santana nodded. "I am a little, too."

"So you know about what Quinn said to Brittany?" Rachel asked.

"I know that Brittany was yelling at Quinn..." Santana's brow furrowed again and she looked harshly at Rachel. "What did Quinn say?"

"N-nothing," Rachel said meekly. "It's not a big deal-"

"-It's a big deal if it made Brittany that upset," Santana said, stepping aggressively towards Rachel. "What did she say?"

"Come on, Santana," Rachel groaned softly. "Please, don't get mad."

"Tell me, damn it," Santana growled.

"Quinn said..." Rachel averted her gaze. "She said that Brittany didn't love you as much as you love her."

Rachel expected Santana to explode with rage. She anticipated that Santana would storm off towards the stairwell and raise hell with Quinn, right there and then. She was surprised when Santana closed her eyes and leaned back on her back foot, shaking her head weakly from side to side as she returned her attention to the frying pan in front of her.

"Fuck," Santana murmured quietly. "Fucking Quinn."

"I don't think she meant anything by it, but-"

"No, don't," Santana said, firm but quiet. "You don't have to justify Quinn's actions, okay? That's not your job."

"I know, Santana," Rachel said. "I just wanted to help-"

"You _are_ helping," Santana agreed. "But I just need everyone to leave Britt alone. She's had a really bad weekend. I want to fix this. I'm going to fix this."

"If you need anything," Rachel offered, extending her hand to give Santana's shoulder a light squeeze. Santana lifted her hand and patted Rachel's hand once before swiping it away.

"Just... get Quinn out of my way for a while, okay?" Santana sighed. "If I see her right now, I'll probably punch her."

"We have dance class today," Rachel said. "I assume you're not going to join us?"

"No," Santana shook her head. "Britt and I need an us day."

"That's cute," Rachel smiled weakly. "I think that's a great idea."

Santana glanced at Rachel and frowned.

"You're doing it again," Santana muttered. "Stop looking at me like that."

"It's just adorable when you two make plans to spend time with each other," Rachel laughed. "I'm sorry, I can't help it."

"Well, start helping it," Santana snapped.

"Oh, come on, Santana," Rachel pouted. "Can't I just give you a hug? Please?"

Santana tried to protest, but Rachel endured being smacked several times with the spatula to give her a bone-crushing bear hug.

"Fuck, get off!"

* * *

><p><em>My footsteps echoed against the floorboards of the darkened stage. I looked around, nervously. I took a step forward, tiptoeing around to look down at my shadow. It was small and almost formless. It didn't look threatening at all. <em>

_Taking several steps backwards, I looked around the rest of the empty stage. Nothing. No one was there and I didn't hear a single sound outside of the small clacks of my footsteps. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stick up in anxious trepidation. _

_Why wasn't anything happening? Was this real? It couldn't be. If so, then why wasn't the dancer coming out to the stage? I stared blankly out at the empty seats. A small creaking noise made my ears prick up and I quickly started scanning around me to find the source. After I spun around a few times, I realized the sound was coming from above me._

_The bird cage hung over me, and I gapped up at it. I stepped back to get a better view of the cage's contents, and saw Santana. She was moving around slowly, and it took me a second to realize that the small steps she made were in a steady rhythm. It was a dance. I strained to see and took another step backwards. A tall form stood close to her, arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace. My mouth gapped open, and I stumbled backwards. I realized a second too late that stepped off the side of the stage, and felt myself plunge backwards._

_But it wasn't backwards. My body fell forward in a weightless swooping motion, and suddenly, I was staring down at Santana, pinning her firmly against the cage. She looked petrified. I felt my mouth spread into a grin on its own, and it made my stomach feel like it fell through the floor. _

My eyes shot open, and instantly I felt like I was blinded. I clenched them closed tightly and let out a loud groan. I rolled onto my back, but the shift in my position made my stomach feel like somehow gravity had reversed on my insides. I quickly rolled back over, burying my face in the closest thing to me. As soft, fluffy fuzz brushed against my face, and I realized the thing I was hugging so tightly in my arms wasn't Santana, but Jeremy. I let out another defeated sound, when suddenly there was a gently squeeze to my shoulder.

"Britt," Santana whispered in my ear softly. I almost bolted up to drape my arms around her neck and pull her into a tight embrace, but my stomach wretched painfully before I could fully lift myself from the mattress, let alone twist around. I was so thankful when Santana's hand moved from my shoulder down to my waist, and she snuggled down into me.

"San...tana..." I murmured weakly. I could barely open my eyes, because it hurt to look out at the room, even if I knew the shades of my room were pulled down and it wasn't that bright. Santana's room had heavier shades and heavy curtains that were really good for making her room dark when she wanted it to be. I didn't have curtains.

"Hey," she cooed, brushing her lips against my ear. All the pain I was feeling disappeared briefly as that small bit of contact made it feel like a wave rippling over my body. I exhaled a shuddered breath and slapped my hand around to grab for hers, tugging it tighter around me.

"How are you feeling?" Her voice was so soft and quiet, but it was like velvet. It was so soothing. I wanted her to keep talking just so that her voice could wash over me and push away how terrible I was feeling.

"Ungh," I groaned. "God... I..." I bent my head forward, and I could feel myself shaking slightly in her arms. She tightened her hold around me and kissed my cheek.

"You're hungover," Santana clarified for me. I didn't really remember drinking that much, but I believed her when she said that. It explained the headache and the gurgled feeling in my stomach. It didn't really explain why I was shaking in her arms, or why I felt so prickly all over. Santana snuggled closer to me, pulling her arm away quickly to grab the blanket and pull it over us. The sudden warmth that enveloped me caused me to sigh, and I realized I wasn't shaking; I'd been shivering because I was cold.

"Santana, why are we in my room?" I croaked. Her bed had a fluffier blanket, and even if our mattresses were virtually the same, the absence of her at my side when I first woke up made me all sorts of flustered and confused.

"It was really hard to get you anywhere last night," Santana replied quietly. She dipped forward and kissed my cheek again. "It was easier."

"I don't... I don't remember that," I murmured. I wanted so badly to twist around in her arms, but my stomach was dictating whether or not I could move, and it wanted me to stay put right now.

"What's the last thing you remember, sweetie?" Santana nuzzled me with her nose and I felt soft wafts of her breath against my skin. Slowly, but surely, her company was making me feel a little better. I wasn't so cold anymore.

"I..." I closed my eyes and strained to remember. We'd gone to the bar. I was supposed to yell at Santana for working, but she ended up convincing me without really trying that it was okay. Quinn and Tina and Rachel were sitting with me. I remembered Santana being super cute and giving me a really yummy tasting drink, and then...

I leaned back into Santana as I recalled being accused of being drunk. There was something else. I remembered the wide-eyed expressions from Tina and Quinn, and even Santana. I remembered kissing Santana. My cheeks flushed, because I remembered kissing her feverishly. Pressing her up against a wall. Her head smacking against it as I let my hands squeeze and dig into her skin. A shudder ran up my spine as the vision in my head suddenly switched from my making out with her in a small, cramped room to the dark, scary birdcage.

"Britt?" Santana breathed softly in my ear. "What's the last thing-"

"I'm s-sorry," I whimpered. "I didn't... I shouldn't have-"

"Sorry about what?" Santana peeled away from me and sat up. I felt miserable that she wasn't so close to me, but I deserved it.

"Y-you didn't want to," I stammered and shook my head. "I tried to force you to-"

"Britt, baby," Santana cooed, lifting her leg up over me and swooping around to my front. Her hand cupped my cheek and she leaned forward to press her lips to mine. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"But-"

"It's fine," Santana breathed. "I know. It's okay."

"I don't even... I don't remember what happened," I muttered.

"What happened was I gave you one too many drinks, and you just wanted to show how much you care about me," Santana whispered, pecking her lips against mine. "There's not a damn thing wrong with that."

"I feel miserable."

"I know," Santana said. She let her hand drag down over my neck and down over my heart. "You didn't drink enough water or have enough to eat. Are you okay?"

"Why am I not wearing clothes?" The warmth of her palm on my skin made me realize that the rest of my body wrapped in her blankets was mostly bare.

"You know us," Santana giggled. "Can't keep our hands off each other."

"Did we...?"

"No," Santana exhaled softly. "No, you fell asleep."

"God," I groaned.

"What?" Santana laughed. "Would you rather have had me had sex with you and not remembered it?"

"No, it's just... that must have been really frustrating." I looked sheepishly down, and she let her fingers run smoothly up over my collar bone.

"I'm fine," Santana shrugged. "One night without sex isn't going to kill me."

"Yeah?" I breathed softly.

"I told you before," she whispered. "It's you I care about, not the sex."

"I know." I barely nodded.

"Not that the sex isn't great," Santana giggled. I let out a small laugh, and she wiggled her nose against mine. "It's mind-blowing, amazing sex. You know why?"

"W-why?" I said through a bubble of laughter that escaped my throat.

"'Cause I... love... you," she sang softly. I could see how she much she was holding back a laugh as she gazed at me. "Please say you love... me... too...

"These three words, they could change our lives forever," she continued, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling quickly and back to me as she grinned goofily. "And I promise you that we will always be together... Till... the... end of time."

"Do do do... do," I sang back softly, wrinkling my nose at her. She finally let out a laugh that caused her nose to scrunch up. I inched forward and caught her lips in mine, eliciting a soft hum from her.

"You're such a dork," I whispered.

"You still love me, though, right?" Santana muttered against my lips.

"Always," I sighed. "For as long as you'll have me."

"Then there's nothing to worry about," she smiled and brushed her hand back up through my hair. She pressed her lips to my forehead and then scooted back. I almost protested, but she wriggled out from beneath the covers before I could. "I made you breakfast."

"You did?" I sat up a little, cautious to do so slowly so that I wouldn't upset my stomach too much. I think that Santana snuggling with me helped, because it wasn't so sensitive to my movements anymore.

Santana lifted up a tray with a plate full of food and then some.

"That's not breakfast, that's a mountain," I exclaimed.

"Then you won't mind sharing, right?" Santana said, shuffling back towards me and laying the tray in my lap. I smiled weakly and gave her a tiny nod.

* * *

><p>Snuggling and kissing Santana in bed all day after eating all the yummy food she made turned out to be the perfect remedy for my hangover. Even she was feeling a lot better and not sick anymore. Eventually, she nudged me to get out of bed. I moped and groaned, begging for her to just let me sleep away the day with her, but she seemed unusually persistent to get out of bed. She convinced me by suggesting we take a shower, but even then, she was strictly business about it. She wouldn't let my hands wander too far down her body, and she would twist away when I tried to kiss her. Well, maybe she did cave a few times, but I noticed she kept her hands on mine to ensure that our kissing didn't go too much further.<p>

"Where are we going?" I asked, sitting up a little in the passenger seat of her car. I'd found the plastic hot wheels car from my mighty kids meal the night before and was rolling it over the side of her leg as she drove.

"You'll see," she said, glancing down at the clock on her stereo system before looking back at the road.

"Are we in a hurry to get somewhere?"

"Sort of," Santana nodded, lifting her hand one hand off the steering wheel to grasp my hand in hers. I giggled, because I'd been inching the toy car over towards the inside of her leg, and she wriggled her hand in mine until I dropped it.

"Why?" I grinned. I liked surprises, and I liked even more that Santana was trying to surprise me with something, but I still kinda just wanted to kiss her all day and forego anything else.

"Because it's Sunday, and everything closes early," she said, glancing at me quickly. "Stop asking questions."

"Yes, ma'am." I smiled and tugged her hand up to my lips, peppering soft kisses over her knuckles.

"Ma'am?" Santana wrinkled her nose.

"Honey? Sweetheart?" I cooed, leaning towards her and scrunching my nose up.

"Ugh, stop," Santana laughed.

"You don't like pet names?" I asked, resting my chin on her shoulder as I held myself up on the center console.

"No, I love that you want to call me those things," Santana said. "Except ma'am, please don't."

"Then why should I stop, babe?" I said in a low whisper and grinned toothily until she shrank back to pull away.

"Stop it, I'm driving," Santana hissed. "I swear to god, if you keep it up, I'm going to have to pull over and kiss the hell out of you."

"And that's a bad thing, because...?"

"The mall is going to close," Santana whined. She looked frustrated and extremely cute as she pouted her lower lip and glared harshly at the road. I nodded and sat back in my seat, squeezing her hand gently until her scowl faded.

"So, we're going to the mall," I said cheerfully. Santana let out a soft sigh and shook her head.

When we got to the shopping center and Santana parked, I stepped out of her car and swayed from side to side cautiously. I looked at her from over the hood of the car and watched as she rummaged through her purse.

"What?" Santana said as she looked up at me. I smiled weakly and leaned against her car, setting my chin on my hands as I rested them on top of it.

"Nothing," I muttered shyly and shook my head. A few strands of hair whipped into my face, and I stared down at the dark material beneath my palms. I guessed that the roof of her car was some kind of leather or fabric or something, since it was a convertible.

"What's up, Britt?"

I looked up and saw Santana was mirroring me on the other side of her car, except she had a soft smile on her face.

"How... how open are we being?" I asked cautiously. "About us?"

"I wish you'd asked me that before you kissed me in front of Rory," Santana murmured.

"What?" I snapped my head back as I lifted it off my hands. I didn't remember doing tha- No. I definitely did that. A soft 'oh' escaped my lips and I hung my head, pressing my forehead to the car. The force of Santana's door closing jostled the whole car, and a few clicks of her heels later, she wrapped her arms around me from behind and pried me off the car.

"If you'd asked me, I would have told you before that I'm comfortable with whatever you want to do," Santana said softly in my ear. "If you don't think we're ready for it, we can keep the PDA to a minimum. Sneaking around all the time was kind of a turn on, don't you think?"

The way she spoke in a low, raspy voice made my breath catch in my throat. It didn't help that her lips brushed against my earlobe. I gulped and nodded my head slowly. I barely managed to whisper, "It was."

"But if you get the urge to hold my hand," Santana said, tangling her fingers in mine. She pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. "Or kiss me. Or pin me up against a wall and suck on my neck-"

"Santana," I giggled when she lowered and playfully nibbled at my neck. It was more ticklish than sexy, because she definitely wasn't trying to kiss me like that. She stopped and nuzzled her nose to my cheek, wrapping her arms around me tighter as her hands slipped out of mine.

"I want to be open," Santana sighed. "You're my girlfriend, and I don't want to hide if you don't want that."

"But what about..." I paused, staring down at my reflection in the window. Santana was looking at it too. "What about people like Avery? The mean people... that aren't okay with girls dating...?" My voice was small. I felt like it was going to crack any second.

"I'll handle them," Santana said, giving me another squeeze. "You don't have to worry about anything but you and me. You want to kiss me, you do it. Don't ever be sorry or scared to do that."

Santana held me firmly in her arms for a while, and I could feel her heart thumping against my back. It should have been weird for her to be hugging me like that in the middle of the parking garage, but it was soothing and calm. She made me feel safe.

"It's up to you, Britt," she murmured.

"I want to kiss you. To hold hands whenever I want..." I said as a small smile spread across my lips. I gripped her wrists tightly and then leaned forward. "To give my girlfriend spontaneous piggy back rides!"

She let out a small gasp, and I laughed as her fingers dug into my sides. I let go of her hands quickly to grab her legs and pull her up onto my back as I stumbled from between cars, twirling in a few circles.

"Brittany!" Santana shrieked before laughing loudly. My grin spread from ear to ear and I carried her towards the elevators. She let one hand drop from around me to press the button for the floor we needed, and I wiggled to the back of the elevator with her on my back.

"Are you really going to carry me?" she asked, pressing her cheek to the side of my head.

"Yes," I said adamantly.

"The whole way?"

"Yes."

"You don't know where we are going," Santana giggled.

"Point me in the right direction, then," I said.

"Alright." Santana kissed my cheek.

"You can do that, too." I tilted my head up to look at her and smiled. "Whenever you want, you can kiss me, too."

"Focus, Britt," Santana laughed. "We have a store to get to."

"Which way?" I asked as the elevator doors opened. She pointed forward and then let out another shriek as I tried to run forward.

* * *

><p>"Santana, no..." I murmured, letting my arms drop a little to let her down from my back. She giggled and scrambled to her feet, quickly grasping my hand in hers and tugging me forward. I resisted, digging my heels as hard as I could into the ground, but she managed to drag me towards the AT&amp;T wireless store.<p>

"I don't have any money for a new phone, Santana," I protested, staring at the ground in embarrassment. I didn't have enough savings yet. I had hardly recovered from moving, and any extra money I could afford to blow, I'd used on our trip to Myrtle Beach. In fact, aside from rent and bills, the last thing I remembered letting myself splurge on was paying for dinner at Breadstix.

"I'm buying you a new phone, Britt," Santana said, grabbing my other hand and pulling me into her. I looked shyly up at her for a moment and then looked back to the ground.

"You don't have to do that," I said quietly.

"I want to," Santana said. "Why do you think I wanted to go to work so badly yesterday?"

"You need to save your money, Santana." I shook my head. What about her grandmother? Wasn't she supposed to visit this summer?

"Look, I can hardly stand spending half a day without you," Santana said as a wide grin formed on her lips. "You think I'm going to be okay if I can't text you?"

"But Santana, they don't even sell flip phones anymore-"

"It's fine," Santana laughed. "We'll get you a smartphone if we have to."

"I can't afford a data plan-"

"Britt," Santana stepped forward and gazed up at me. "Let me do this for you."

I hushed instantly. It was in part because of the way she was looking at me and how intimately close we were, despite people bustling past us to go in and out of shops. I hardly noticed them. It was also because no one had ever said that to me before. Santana was the only person who had ever gone so far out of her way to do nice things for me.

"Okay," I whispered. She brightened and pecked my lips quickly, spinning around and pulling me into the store. I laughed at how excited she was to buy me a new cell phone.

Once inside, we were almost immediately approached by a salesman. Santana assured me she would handle the logistics of getting me the phone and instructed me to look over the phones while she worked everything out with the salesperson. I paused when I overheard her asking about merging phone plans, but then she whisked her hand at my face and pointed at the phones on display.

"Okay, okay," I murmured, wrinkling my nose and taking long, slow steps towards a few of the phones. Most of them were smart phones, squarish with their fancy touch screens. I picked up a sleek looking Android phone and nearly dropped it trying to figure out where the power button was. Luckily, they were all attached to wires, but I felt a little foolish from the clatter it made.

Picking out phones on my own reminded me of when Santana managed to get me a new mattress at Mattress Land. It was strange to think that here I was, a month and a half later, in such a similar position from where it started. Only instead of that nervous, fluttering feeling of uncertainty and pinky links, I had this warm, almost scary feeling of love and the most wonderful girlfriend in the world.

I made my way from phone to phone, but most of them were complicated and confusing. The ones that weren't smartphones were blocky and old looking, like no one had designed new ones since 2007. I picked up a black, brick of a phone and cringed. My old phone might not have been fancy or had more than a T9 keyboard, but it had been cute and even pink at one point. I felt a little lost amongst all the technology. I still hadn't figured out how to upload my photos from my digital camera to my computer. How was I supposed to figure out phones that I couldn't even find the power button for?

"This one looks hella scary," Santana said quietly from behind me. I almost jumped, but her hand placed gently on my shoulder as she nestled her chin on the other side. She reached for the black phone I had just set down and rotated it in her hand.

"It's like a Nokia on steroids," she giggled.

"What's the plan about the phone?" I asked, twisting my head a little so that I could look at her.

"I'm adding you to my phone plan," Santana said, kissing my nose. "It's great, 'cause we share minutes, but the only person I'd ever call is you anyway."

"Santana..."

"Whatever, don't even start," she laughed. "It's fine. You just buy lunch on Fridays from now on."

"That doesn't make up for the cost of a phone plan, Santana."

"I don't care," Santana shrugged. "Stop complaining about it. You get to keep your old number and everything. I gave the guy, Brian? Ryan? Whatever. I gave him your old phone and he managed to salvage the sim card."

"Okay," I murmured. I wrinkled my nose at the black phone in Santana's hand. It was the ugliest phone I'd ever seen, but it was one of the least expensive ones and the sign said it was waterproof. It looked like you could shoot it and it would live to tell the tale. After what happened to my last phone, it really seemed like the best choice for someone like me.

"I'll just get that one then."

"Ew, Britt, for real?" Santana said, side-stepping and putting the phone back on the display. "No, come on, I got hella tips last night. We're getting you a good phone."

"But I'll just break it."

"I'll buy you a case."

"But what if I drop it in the bathtub?"

"You take baths with me, so why would you need your phone?"

She turned to stare at me seriously, but I couldn't help but grin. Ryan, or Brian, or whoever he was had stopped abruptly behind her. He glanced at Santana, arched his brow and then caught my gaze. He smiled warmly at me and shook his head as he walked back to the desk.

"You're right," I sighed softly and Santana beamed. She pulled me back towards the expensive looking Androids and started tapping on screens and playing with them. I leaned into her, mostly watching unless she made me try something she figured out.

"I just don't understand it," I sighed, placing the phone she had handed me down and pouting. "Smartphones are complicated. I just want a regular phone. I don't know how to use these."

"It just takes time to get used to, Britt," Santana said calmly. She looked down at the phone in her hands and then set it down to hand me a new one. "Come on, try this one."

"That's your phone," I said, staring down at the phone in her hand.

"You like my phone," Santana said with a smile.

"You can't buy me an iPhone, Santana."

"Stop thinking about the cost, okay? They're the same price as the last phone I handed you. Do you like the phone?"

"I do, but that's just because you've let me play with yours-"

"Do you want me to get you an iPhone, Britt?" Santana eyed me for a moment until I smiled weakly and nodded.

"Good," Santana leaned forward and pecked her lips to my nose. "'Cause I was planning on that from the start."

* * *

><p>Santana's phone buzzed in her lap, and she let out a soft sigh. She glanced to the side at me and quickly back to the windshield.<p>

"You're not going to answer that?" I asked, as a small smile spread over my lips.

"I'm driving," Santana said quietly.

"What if it's important?"

"It's a text message. It can wait," Santana laughed.

"Can't you just check to see who it's from?"

"I know who it's from," Santana said, giving me a quick, warm smile. She lifted her hand from the steering wheel and grabbed mine, holding it firmly as I dropped my new phone in my lap. "And they can wait five minutes until we are home to send me a million text messages."

"What if it's a _sext_ message?" I grinned.

Santana pursed her lips and stared out at the road. I saw her eyebrow twitch.

"I'm kidding," I leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I'll be good."

I wasn't. I sent Santana three more text messages while she was driving, giggling at the fact that her phone was between her legs. Her face screwed up into a frustrated scowl. When she finally pulled into her parking space, she swiftly shifted the gear to park and flicked her thumb across her phone screen to unlock it.

"'Hi'," Santana read out loud. "'x-o-x-o,' really?"

Santana arched her brow at me while still staring down at her phone.

"'Ha-ha.'" She continued, reading along flatly. "'I just gave you kisses-'" Santana stopped and pursed her lips.

"Go on," I grinned.

"'-between your legs.'" Santana frowned. She dropped her phone, and at first I thought she was going to playfully smack me for such a crude text. Instead, quickly unbuckled her seatbelt and practically lunged at me.

"Sa-" was all that I managed to say before her lips crashed against mine. I was shoved harshly back against the window, but I smiled against her kiss. My hands dragged down her sides as she deepened the kiss, one hand still holding my new cotton candy-blue encased iPhone, before she drew back an inch.

"Get out of the car," she husked. I smiled and licked my lips, leaning forward to snatch hers in mine, but then her hand shifted to unbuckle me. She drew away from my lips and extended her hand to open the door.

"Out," she growled.

I nodded obediently and slinked back before scrambling out the door. She met me half way around the car, scooping me into her arms and kissing me hard on the lips as she spun me around. A laugh bubbled its way to the surface from both of us as we realized we were practically dancing in the street, trying to kiss each other. I tore away to twirl her around and then swung my hand in hers as we walked down the sidewalk to our apartment building.

She pulled me to a stop at the door to kiss me. She did it again when we were waiting for the elevator, pushing me inside. She was just starting to kiss feverishly down my neck and press me up against the corner when my phone clattered out of my hand to the floor. She slipped her tongue back into her mouth as we both stared quietly at it.

"Thank god we bought you the case, huh?" Santana giggled as she bent down to scoop it up and selecting the button for our floor. "It's fine."

"They should label it 'Santana proof'," I said, taking the phone from her and pocketing it. She nudged me with her elbow and wrinkled her nose. I enveloped her in a huge side hug, prodding my nose against her cheek before I smacked my lips against it.

"We should probably stop making out in the elevator anyway," Santana muttered.

"I like making out with you," I mumbled. "It's like, my third favorite activity."

"Third?" Santana raised a brow at me.

"I like doing _other _stuff with you too," I wrinkled my nose.

"What comes before making out? Sex?" Santana frowned.

"Sex is fourth," I murmured shyly. "I like just laying with you more."

"More than kissing?"

"Maybe they flip-flop," I shrugged.

"What's number one?" Santana giggled as she nudged me to move out of the elevator. I pulled away from her to grasp her hands and tugged her forward.

"Dancing," I said with a grin. Santana's smile faltered for a second as she let me lead her down the hallway.

"Dancing wins over cuddling and kissing?"

"With you? Of course," I said, placing a soft kiss on her forehead as she leaned into me. She sighed contentedly.

"We missed dance today," Santana murmured.

"You never like going unless I go anyway," I replied.

"Maybe taking the dance class was silly," Santana shrugged. "It's not helping me with my project."

I paused, resting my chin on the top of her head as she snuggled into me. I had forgotten, among all the crazy other things that had been happening, that Santana needed to take the dance classes for her independent study.

"Stop going to Mike's dance class," I said softly. "You're not getting the individual attention you need for your class."

"And what, you're going to give it to me?"

"Obviously," I said, squeezing my arms firmly around her back. "You don't need to be learning choreographed dances to songs you're not going to sing. I'll help you figure out choreography that's at a level you can work with to the right music."

"You're amazing, Britt," Santana sighed. I let her rest against me for a while. There wasn't any urgency to get inside the apartment. I liked that one minute we were kissing almost ferociously like we couldn't get enough of each other, and the next we could be snuggling as calm as kittens. There was a small ding and the elevator down the hall opened up again.

"-And then I told Kurt that movie nights are not _exclusive_ to Tina, and he and Mercedes are more than welcome to come over tomorrow too," Rachel said in that animated tone she always seemed to speak in as she stepped out of the elevator. I looked up and saw Quinn appear a second later, looking tired and annoyed. I couldn't help that that made me smile a little.

"I just don't think it's necessary to always have movie nights at our apartment," Quinn sighed. "We end up always having to pay for snacks and drinks and no one else ever even brings the god damn movi- Oh, look at you two."

Santana peeled her face from my neck, staying comfortably in my arms as she frowned at Quinn.

"We're not doing anything, shut up," Santana muttered.

"Yes, you are, you're blocking the door," Rachel giggled. Santana shuffled a bit to let Rachel squeeze passed us.

"Anyway," Quinn rolled her eyes at all three of us. "Can you two please tell Rachel we need to rotate whose place we have movie nights at?"

"I'm not siding with you," Santana said, snuggling further into me. "Kurt's apartment is tiny, and Mercedes doesn't let anyone eat or put their feet up on her couch. Bitch has a bomb apartment, too. You should see the size of her TV."

"Really?" I asked, straining to look down at her.

"I forgot you haven't been to any of their apartments," Rachel said as she pushed the door open and held it for us. I waddled forward with Santana in my arms.

"So then let's have movie night at Mercedes' apartment," Quinn groaned. "Come on, Britt, if we vote two to two, we can get Tina to tie-break."

"No," I said firmly. Both Quinn and Santana seemed to tense as they looked at me strangely. I let out a soft sigh and shook my head. "I have plans tomorrow night."

"Excuse me? With who?" Santana frowned.

"You," I said, wrinkling my nose as I smiled broadly. Santana's face lit up, and she shuffled back into my arms.

"Change of plans, I don't give a fuck what you guys do," Santana said cheerfully, and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Can you two be disgustingly cute somewhere else?" Quinn brushed past us.

"Can you be disgustingly rude somewhere else?" Santana called back. I snickered and Santana grinned as Quinn stopped abruptly.

"Ladies, please, let's stop the bickering," Rachel pleaded, pushing her palm flatly against Quinn's back to force her into the kitchen.

"It's not my fault she needs to get laid," Santana snapped.

"Why do you always have to bring that up, Santana?" Quinn growled. I knew that Santana liked to tease Quinn, but I wasn't sure if Quinn's reaction was playful or serious.

"I don't need a man in my life just to be happy," Quinn said, twisting around and smacking her own palm against her chest.

"Neither do we," I smirked. Santana laughed, squeezing me tightly as Quinn let out a small, disgruntled cry of frustration and stormed into the kitchen.

"Whatever," Santana said, rolling her eyes. "She's being dull. Come on, Britt, let's go upstairs."

"You spent all day together," Quinn called from the kitchen.

"And I'm going to spend all night with her too," Santana said, sticking out her tongue as she took a step up the stairwell. Quinn let out a loud sigh.

"Come here, you," Santana laughed, tickling her fingers into my sides. I stumbled against the wall and nearly fell up the stairs. I didn't think that was possible, but I almost did it. She grabbed both my hands and pulled me up. I hugged her around the waist as we scrambled to the top of the stairs.

"Your room or mine?"

"Yours," I mumbled into her jacket. She wiggled her butt to get me to let go.

"Want a piggy back ride?" She crouched and let me hop onto her back. It was exceptionally difficult for her to make it down the hall, because we were both bubbling with laughter. She bumped into the walls multiple times and I squealed at every moment she might drop me.

"Sorry, you're heavy!"

"I'm not!" I cried, loosening one of my hands from around her to smack her shoulder gently.

"Not like that!" Santana laughed. "I'm just not as strong as you are."

"So now I'm manly," I giggled. Her face got super red, and she looked like she was at a loss for words.

"I didn't say... Britt, come on, you know I won't drop you," Santana muttered. I hugged her with both arms again and kissed her cheek.

"I know," I said softly, nuzzling my nose to her cheek. "And you're stronger than you think."

"Thanks, Britt," Santana laughed. I nudged her ear with my nose again as she attempted to open the door to her room.

"Hey," I said softly.

"Yeah?" Santana glanced up at me. I stretched forward and opened the door for her.

"So, I like how you're in between _my_ legs now," I whispered as I drew my hand back. She let out a sharp gasp and then she actually did drop me, but I landed okay and started to laugh.

"You think that's funny?" Santana snapped, twisting around and gripping my shoulders.

"I think it's _hilarious_," I grinned, cocking my eyebrow up at her and tilting my head to the side.

"Alright, let's see if you laugh at this!" She dropped her hands to my waist and pulled me into her. I let out a small laugh just before she crashed her lips against mine. I hummed happily, wrapping my arms around her neck, but then she deepened the kiss.

She forced me to stumble backwards into her room as she moved to kiss at my neck, her hands riffling up beneath my jacket. I made a sound of protest that mixed with a gasp, because as much as I wanted all of our clothes gone, my new phone was in the pocket of said jacket. I don't think she intended to ignore my objection so much as she hadn't really heard it. A second later, she was tearing it off my shoulders and dragging it down my arms. She kicked the door closed behind her and pushed me backwards onto the bed.

"God, Santana," I huffed while she unzipped her own jacket and tossed it aside. She stared at me a moment as I sat up. My chest heaved up and down from the kissing alone, but god, she looked sexy. I barely had time to catch my breath when she quickly scrambled over to me and pulled me up to reconnected our lips. Her dark hair fell over us as she straddled my hips, and I made a rather loud and surprised moan into her mouth.

She started raking her fingers up along my sides, slipping them beneath my shirt and then digging in when she found my breasts. I tilted my head up and to the side to gasp, and her lips found their way back down my neck instead. It was so hard to focus on anything but the pleasure of her touch.

"Shit," I hissed when sank her teeth into my skin. She unclenched her jaw and licked the spot before kissing it sweetly and sitting up a little, slipping her hands back from beneath my shirt.

"Did I bite too hard?" Santana whispered. She let her fingers drag gently over my neck and I shook my head.

"Just surprised me," I said softly, leaning forward to kiss her. I wrapped my hands around her butt to pull her as close as I could. She let out small gasp as I tried to roll her over and deepen the kiss, but then the gasp turned into a small cry when her hand stretched out to grab at the mattress and it wasn't there. We tumbled to the floor, tangling in the comforter as it dragged beneath us. When I regained some sense of direction, I found myself laying on top of her and smiled.

"Britt," Santana whined, trying to roll out from underneath me, but I laid into her and started to kiss her neck. Her whine turned into a soft moan, and I smirked at how easy it was to get her to be so compliant.

"Are you really that excited, Santana?" I whispered with a small chuckle, nibbling at her earlobe after I spoke. Her fingers dug into my back and she tilted her head to expose more of her neck for me.

"God, stop making fun of me," Santana hissed. "Yes, okay?"

"I'm not trying to," I smiled. "It's my fault, huh?"

"All your _fucking_ fault," Santana giggled. "You have been teasing me all day. All night, even."

"I'm sorry," I said softly. My brow creased. I felt really bad that I'd done that to her, _again_.

"Just shut up and kiss me, Britt," Santana pleaded. I smiled and complied with her request. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I was happy that she didn't try to take over. She barely made any attempt to guide me, letting my hands roam freely down to unzip her jeans. I picked her up a little to pull them off, and then broke from kissing her to look down at her for a second. Her chest was heaving up and down, and she was clinging so tightly to me. Her gaze was so warm and loving, despite how eager she was for me to touch her, that I couldn't help but feel guilty. I'd been so forceful with her the night before. I didn't want to do it like this, with me pinning her down.

"Sit up," I said softly. Her brow wrinkled for a split second, but she let me pick her up off the ground. I kissed softly at her neck as I cupped her butt in my hands, scooting around to set her gently on the nearest surface that I thought was her bed, until she let out a tiny 'oof!' I pulled back and saw her fall into her circle chair. A small grin found its way to my lips as I let my hands drag from her butt back around to her underwear.

"Britt," Santana breathed quietly. I was still kneeling on the ground, so I scooted closer to nestle between her legs. I hadn't tried anything like this since we got interrupted the last time at Myrtle Beach, with exception to her going down on me that one time, so I sought out her eyes for permission to do so. She smiled weakly and lifted her hand to cup my cheek, pulling me up to her face so she could kiss me.

"Is it okay?" I asked softly.

"Definitely," she whispered back. I kept kissing her while I pulled her underwear off, and then slipped my hands to her thighs and applied pressure to spread them apart. She moaned softly as I kissed down her neck and then lowered to suck and kiss up her legs.

"Please, Britt," Santana whined. I inhaled softly before inching closer and pressing my lips over her exposed folds. She whimpered and scooted forward a bit to the edge of her chair. Her hands tangled through my hair, and I exhaled softly through my nose before letting my tongue run flatly over her. Her fingers dug into my scalp, causing me to giggle a bit.

"Oh, god, don't laugh," Santana pleaded. I nodded and kept my focus on the task at hand. I inched forward a bit more, enveloping her folds with my lips and sucking gently over them. Her hips lifted up a bit as a soft gasp escaped her throat. I let my tongue explore between her folds, slipping over her slowly until she squirmed a bit beneath me.

"Britt, stop teasing," Santana groaned. I gripped her legs tightly to stop her from squirming and let my tongue delve deeper. She let out a moan that wasn't quiet at all. I paused, wondering if that had been because of me or not, but then her hands tightened in my hair.

"F-fuck, Brittany," Santana hissed. I grinned a little bit and continued to work my tongue in and out. Her gasps got louder and quicker, especially when I moved up to suck on her clit. I hummed softly, eliciting a breathy moan from her throat.

I sucked and licked and kissed, staring up at her until she threw her head back and practically yelled my name. I felt her body tense and she shuddered as she came. I lapped my tongue between her legs and then wiggled up when she loosened her hold on the back of my head.

I snuggled into her. She was warm and a little damp from beads of sweat that had formed on her skin. I loved so much that I could just breathe her in and cuddle. She let her hands slide over my back and pulled me close before kissing me. Our lips parted and met several times before she let out a long, soft sigh.

"Do you think they heard you?" I giggled. It might have been bad, considering our newly created roommate agreement, but I didn't think Quinn and Rachel were in their rooms. They were probably still downstairs.

"Who fucking cares," Santana murmured, twisting to the side to give me more room to snuggle. She leaned forward and gave me a soft, lazy, appreciative kiss.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So this is me being a combination of lazy and tired, but I have to get up early tomorrow morning for work, so I'm going to just roll with it. **

**I didn't have my beta go over the last half of this chapter, because she's also tired from work and I was still writing when that happened. So, my apologies that it isn't double checked over and everything. I'll totally own up to any errors that are in it, but overall, I feel like it's an okay one in light of how out of the loop with writing I've been. I'll definitely update it with the revised version when Wonderland has the time to go back over it... but plot-wise, I'm pretty sure the content is all the same. I totally hate doing that, but even more, I hate how I keep promising to update on tumblr and I don't follow through because I keep passing out and sleeping instead of writing. :(**

**There's a line some ways up that Santana sings to Brittany from a Celine Dion song, but it's not really a song for the chapter, and I forgot what it was. :S My bad. **

**I also realized that this story is set in 2015 (which makes me kinda happy, because I just watched Back to the Future, and I for serious want those Pepsi cans to be real), so any and all cell phones probably don't look a thing like they do now in 2012. Whatever. I'm sure there will be an iPhone 8 or something in 2015.**


	38. The Date Do Over

Monday morning was not pleasant. I was tired, feeling more groggy than I usually did, and I could only assume it was a combination of still suffering from a slight hangover and certain activities Santana and I performed until nearly three in the morning. I shuffled into the bathroom, rubbing my left eye with the back of my palm. Santana was already there, and she cheerfully handed me my toothbrush.

"Morning," she said sweetly and pecked my cheek. I guess I was a little taken aback by how awake she was, especially since I woke up without her next to me. I definitely wasn't used to her being so affectionate outside of our rooms; not since Quinn and Rachel had come back. But it was definitely welcome.

"G'morning," I mumbled. I shyly took my toothbrush and she applied the toothpaste. I liked that she set her toothbrush up to mine and made one long strip instead of two separate ones. For some reason, that felt like a very girlfriend thing to do.

We stood in silence, quietly brushing our teeth. After a few seconds, Santana caught my sleepy gaze in the mirror and gently bumped her hip to mine. I let out a soft laugh as I bit down on the bristles of my brush, wrinkling my nose at her and knocking my hip back into hers. She did it again, and I waggled my free hand at her.

"'Thop i'," I said. She wiggled her eyebrow at me and went back to brushing. She finished before me and then wrapped her hands around my waist. It made it hard to rinse my mouth out with water when she was tickling her fingers at the bare skin that she exposed by pushing up my shirt a bit.

"S-santana," I spluttered.

"Sorry, sorry," she giggled. I wiped my face and pouted.

"How are you so awake right now?"

"I don't know," she said with a shrug, pulling me closer into her arms and sighing. I rested my head back sleepily.

"I'm exhausted," I sighed.

Santana nudged her nose against my cheek, whispering softly in my ear. "I should have let you sleep more."

"Mm," I hummed, only half agreeing with her. I definitely could have used the sleep, but I don't think she was _entirely_ to blame. There was a small knock, and I lazily looked up to the open door. Rachel smiled weakly.

"What do you want?" Santana scowled. I nudged my elbow gently against her ribs, and she exhaled loudly. "_Yes_, Rachel?" she corrected, trying to sound a little more polite. She didn't.

"Just... the bathroom... can we? Um," Rachel gestured with her hands at us and herself and rotated them in the air. "Can I use the bathroom now?"

"Aren't you supposed to be in class already, Rachel?" I asked, looking down to the sink counter where the iPod dock was that displayed the time.

"That clock has been wrong for ages," Rachel said, scooting past us and then ushering us both out. "Besides, my class is cancelled."

"No wonder I'm tired," I said just before the door was shut in my face. I glanced at Santana, and she smiled as she gave me a tight squeeze.

"C'mon, sleepy," she said, kissing me quickly on the lips and grabbing my hand to tug me towards the stairs. "I'll make you breakfast."

Even when we had the apartment to ourselves, Santana had never made me breakfast when it wasn't a weekend. She was always super sleepy and would trudge around while Quinn would bicker at her to move faster, since they carpooled sometimes. I think I would have expressed my surprise along with Quinn and Rachel more if I hadn't been so tired myself.

"It's so odd," Rachel commented from the seat next to me at the dining table. I glanced warily up at her from the plate Santana placed in front of me.

"Hm?" I hummed softly as I jabbed my fork into the omelette.

"Like Freaky Friday weird," Rachel continued while holding up a spoonful of her grapefruit. She tilted the spoon towards me and then up to Santana. "Did you guys swap roles or something?"

"I dunno, there was a lot of swapping roles last night," I murmured, shoving my fork in my mouth. Santana's hand flew across the table to smack my forehead gently.

"Britt," Santana hissed. "Inappropriate."

"Wha'e'r," I tried to say, lazily chewing as I stared down at my plate. Quinn's shuffling at my other side caught my attention, and I glanced over to her. She quietly sipped on her coffee, and I wouldn't have thought anything of it, except I caught her shake her head. My brow furrowed.

"It's not like we couldn't _hear_ you," Quinn sighed.

"Jealous?" Santana said as she sat down across from me.

"Hardly." Quinn rolled her eyes.

"We weren't that loud," Santana snapped. "Stop being so grumpy."

"Says the girl that's usually a zombie in the morning," Quinn snapped back. I bowed my head sheepishly as I shoveled another forkful of egg into my mouth.

"Are you two already arguing...?" Rachel groaned.

"Nope," Santana said cheerfully. She reached forward and placed her hand on mine. "Wake up."

"Hm?" I looked up. I hadn't been falling asleep, but rather, trying to avoid Santana and Quinn's attention. It didn't mean I wasn't tired, though. She smiled sweetly at me, as if she had decided to completely disregard that Quinn was annoyed.

"Ugh, I'm leaving in five minutes," Quinn said, scooting her chair back as she stood up abruptly. "If you're not ready in time, you can walk, Santana."

"Looks like someone commandeered the bitch town express," Santana murmured, causing Rachel to stifle a giggle. She straightened up and pushed her own chair away from the table as she addressed Quinn directly. "Yeah, whatever, Fabray. Don't get your untouched panties in a bunch."

Quinn let out an annoyed sigh and turned to go upstairs. She wasn't stomping, but she wasn't exactly quiet either.

"That's not really mature, Santana," Rachel said softly.

"I'm not going to let her sour attitude ruin my day," Santana snapped. "But if she's going to start trouble, then I'll give her hell-" She paused and caught my gaze. Her expression softened immediately, causing me to smile as well. She let out a small huff of air through her nose and shook her head. "I'll _try_ not to instigate anything."

"Good," Rachel said, grabbing her plate before slipping away from the table and into the kitchen. "You should get your stuff, though, Q sounded serious."

"Yeah, yeah," Santana sighed, waving her hand lightly in the air. She looked down at me and then smiled again before she whisked off to grab her bag from her room.

"I've never had any siblings, but I swear, they act like it sometimes," Rachel said from the kitchen. I looked up from my plate.

"Nothing more?" I asked cautiously.

"Hm?" Rachel looked up from the sink.

"Nothing, nevermind," I murmured. That was a stupid thing to bring up.

"I've never even understood how they became friends in the first place," Rachel said, looking over to the stairs. "From the outside looking in, it was reasonable because they were both Cheerios, but now that we're roommates... I guess there are just some things you don't ever understand."

"I would assume there are all sorts of different friendships," I said, looking down at my plate again. I didn't really know, but being friends with Rachel was different than being friends with Tina and Quinn, and even Mike and Santana. They were definitely very drastically different friendships than ones I'd had with people like Jenna and Madison.

"Yeah, that's true," Rachel said. "Theirs is sort of love-hate, don't you think?"

Rachel spun around to laugh, but I straightened at the comment. I wondered if that was true. If it was, how much did Quinn love and hate Santana?

"Hey." Santana's voice whispered so suddenly in my ear that I nearly jumped as I turned to look at her. I barely caught sight of her when she leaned in to kiss me. My eyes widened for a second before they fluttered closed. She smiled and pushed a little harder against my lips, forcing her nose to smoosh lightly against mine. I tilted my head to the side, dropping my fork as I leaned forward to deepen it. A soft, satiated hum made its way up my throat a few seconds before she pulled away. I instantly longed for her to kiss me again, but I was left disappointed as she tapped my nose with her finger and wrinkled hers at me.

"See you for lunch," she stated. It wasn't a question. It was pure fact.

"Yeah," I breathed, nodding slowly. Santana stood upright and ruffled my hair playfully before Quinn called from the door. She rolled her eyes, but kept her smile as she stepped backwards towards the door.

"C'mon, lovergirl," Quinn sighed. "_You're_ the one that said you needed to get to campus early."

"Shut up, Q," Santana murmured, giving me one last wave of her hand and blowing me a kiss good-bye. I smiled and pretended to catch it, and then Quinn gently shoved her through the doorway as I returned the air-kiss.

"Is it going to be like this every time you two part ways?" Quinn sighed.

"Yes. Now get off me, Fabray," Santana scowled as they both disappeared behind the door. Rachel and I both laughed.

"I guess she'll always still be Santana." Rachel shook her head as she turned her attention back to the counter. I didn't realize until she walked over a moment later with a mug that she had been making preparing a cup of coffee.

"For you, sleepyhead," she laughed and stretched her hand across the table. The mug had barely set down to the surface of the table when I snapped up.

"Shoot!" I shot from the table and scrambled to the door.

"Brittany, what-"

I threw open the door, but the hallway was empty. I almost bolted out the door, but I knew that even if I ran down the stairs, Santana and Quinn would be gone before I could make it in time to catch them.

"What on earth?" Rachel appeared at my side and looked down the empty hallway. "Did she forget something?"

"No, I did," I murmured, shutting the door and quickly retrieving my phone from my pocket. I was in the middle of typing out a text to Santana when Rachel huddled closer.

"When did- Did Santana buy you an iPhone, Britt?" Rachel exclaimed. My cheeks flushed and I nodded gently. She quickly stole the phone out of my hands with a wide grin on her face. "Aw...! 'Have a good day! I love you! x o x o'?"

"Rachel, give it back-"

The phone buzzed, and we both froze, my arms stretched over her since she had twisted around to hold it out of my reach. Rachel slowly brought it back down so that we could read the incoming message.

_Love you too, B. Rachel, give Brittany back her phone. - Santana_

Rachel and I stepped away from each other and she sheepishly handed me my phone back.

"I like your phone ca- oh my gosh, Brittany!" Rachel went from looking like a kicked puppy to astonished as she stared at me with this bewildered look on her face. I pulled my phone close to my chest with wide eyes, awaiting for her to tell me that there was a bomb or something equally as horrible until I noticed her eyes were trained very distinctly on me. I lowered my gaze, straining to look down at myself and then up again when she reached forward and flipped my hair back.

"Your n-ne...Oh..." Rachel's cheeks flushed and she drew back her hand quickly. "Brittany, you have like a million_ hickeys._"

"Oh," I spoke softly as I dabbed my fingers gently at my neck. The pressure caused me to wince a bit, because they were more bites marks than anything else. "Um, yeah..." The word _jellyfish_ popped into my head, and I giggled.

"Let's... get you a scarf or something..."

* * *

><p>Santana smiled as she set her phone back in her lap. Quinn looked over at her from the driver's seat and rose her brow.<p>

"I know _why_ you're in a good mood, but I'm still surprised that she has this much of an impact on you," Quinn said quietly. Santana looked up at her and let out a soft sigh.

"Quinn, she's my _girlfriend_," Santana said, as if she'd said it a million times already.

"I just... I've never seen this side of you before, Santana," Quinn said. "Even when you dated Puck and Sam and-"

"All the other _guys_ I've been with?" Santana rose her brow as her lips pursed together neatly.

"I didn't mean it like that," Quinn said. "It's refreshing, but it's also really hard to get used to."

"And why is that?" Santana said defensively.

"Well, no offense, S," Quinn said, glancing at her quickly before looking back at the road. "In all your other relationships, you've always been the dominating force. But with Brittany..."

"With Brittany _what_?" Santana snapped.

"You don't look at her like she's something to control or own," Quinn said softly. "So, as I said, it's refreshing."

Santana's expression softened and she let herself fall back into her seat. She opened her mouth a few times to speak, but Quinn was too focused on driving to notice. She shook her head lightly and picked up her phone when it buzzed in her lap.

_Can I come to NYU for lunch? - Britt-Britt_

Santana smiled and tapped on the screen of her phone quickly to reply.

_Of course. I think that would be better than hanging around Juilliard for a few days. Do you know how to get to the Tisch building? _

"Kurt and Mercedes are coming over tonight," Quinn said, but Santana was barely listening. "And Mike and Tina."

"Mm?" Santana hummed. "For what?"

"Monday Night Movie," Quinn replied. "I thought we talked about this last night."

"Oh, yeah," Santana nodded her head like she was actually listening. Her phone buzzed again, and she quickly swiped her thumb over the unlock button.

_It's like a block from 8th and Broadway, right?- Britt-Britt_

_Yeah, but do you know how to GET there?_

"-wants to watch The Karate Kid, but you know Kurt and Mercedes would rather-"

_No. I'll have Rachel write directions for me. :) - Britt-Britt_

"-then there's Jurassic Park, but we've watched that the last time he was over-"

_You know... your new phone has this wonderful map app. _

"-I don't really know where everyone is going to sit. I mean, there's the four of us, plus the four of them-"

"Britt and I have a date," Santana interjected, barely looking up from her phone.

"...Right," Quinn said quietly. Santana's phone buzzed again.

_That's right! :) I don't know how to use that. I'll have Rachel do it. - Britt-Britt_

_Just as long as she doesn't text-_

Santana's message was cut short when a rather long message was sent back.

_Hello, Santana, this is Rachel. I'm just wondering if you would like me to direct her to the Tisch building itself, or if you are planning to meet up for lunch in the general area. I can recommend a few restaurants in the area, if you'd like. - Britt-Britt_

"What the-" A series of shorter messages followed before Santana knew what was happening.

_Maoz Vegetarian has falafels that are quite delicious. - Britt-Britt_

_I've heard Cafetasia is good as well. - Britt-Britt_

_There's a Korean restaurant on Mercer St. - Britt-Britt_

Santana managed to type something quickly and send it.

_Fuck, Rachel, I do not give a shit about your recommendations. I go to Tisch every day. Don't you think I know what restaurants are in the goddamn area? And what the fuck is a falafel? _

There was a small gray icon indicating that Rachel was typing a response, but Santana tapped quickly on her screen.

_Fuck, do you not know what a rhetorical question is? Stop texting me through Britt's phone. It's freaky. _

The icon disappeared for a second, and then reappeared a moment later.

_Falafels sound funny. Can we get pizza for lunch? - Britt-Britt_

_It's Brittany, btw. - Britt-Britt_

Santana let out a soft sigh and smiled before responding.

_Pizza sounds wonderful, B. :) And I knew it was you._

"What's with the text bombing?" Quinn said.

"Rachel took Brittany's phone," Santana replied.

"When did Brittany get a new phone, anyway?"

"I bought it for her yesterday," Santana shrugged.

"You don't have the money to do that, S," Quinn's brow furrowed.

"Yeah, no, I do," Santana said. "Unlike you and Rachel, I work during the winter and summer breaks instead of going home. I have savings."

"I thought you were saving up for your abuela to visit," Quinn said. "I mean, you were really upset when she couldn't visit for Christmas."

"It's fine, Q," Santana said, rolling her eyes. "Brittany needed a phone. I still have enough."

"I just don't want you to ruin your plans with your grandmother because you can't keep track of all your priorities, Santana. You've had a few close calls with your job the past few weeks, not to mention you took off a lot too-"

"It's not like you're my financial advisor, Quinn," Santana snapped, ignoring the buzz of an incoming text message.

"No, I'm not, but I am your friend," Quinn frowned. She had pulled into her parking space and quickly shifted the gear before giving Santana a rather severe look. "I wasn't trying to overstep. But sometimes it's like you're not even thinking things through anymore."

Santana's brow furrowed and her grip on her phone tightened as she glared up at Quinn.

"I can't think things through? Well, obviously not, coming from the girl that's more complicated than a rubix cube," Santana spat, waving her free hand at Quinn before hastily grabbing her bag off the floor. "What I do with my money that doesn't go to rent is my business, Quinn. And if you were really my friend, you wouldn't be making my _girlfriend_ think that she's not good enough for me."

"Santana-"

"Shut up, Quinn," Santana snapped as she threw the passenger door open. "You've been picking fights with me since Saturday morning. I'm going to class."

"You don't have class for an hour," Quinn said, quickly sliding out of her seat.

"To my professor's office, then," Santana shouted as she stormed off through the parking garage.

"The elevator is the other way," Quinn shouted back.

"Fuck you, Quinn," Santana growled, spinning on her heel and heading towards the stairwell.

* * *

><p>I was really excited for my date do-over with Santana. Rachel had helped me make brownies before I had to leave for class, and promised to finish cutting them out for me since her class was cancelled. She said that the dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets I bought probably wouldn't be enough for a meal, so she suggested I go with my original plan of macaroni and cheese when I got home from work. In the meantime, I was on my way from the subway station to meet up with Santana for pizza.<p>

I spotted Santana waiting outside of the Tisch building. She was propped up against the wall with her arms crossed, and with her sunglasses on, it looked like she was scowling. Thinking that maybe she was just lost in thought, I decided to try and sneak up on her.

"What are you doing?" Santana said, lowering her glasses as I crept towards her.

"Oh. You can see me," I said as my lips spread into a smile. When she didn't quite return it, I faltered a bit. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, come on," Santana said, reaching for my hand and grasping it tightly before she pulled me down the street. The fact that she was holding my hand should have made me bubble up with warmth and happiness, but her demeanor was so off-putting that I couldn't really enjoy it. When we stopped at the crosswalk, I leaned into her and squeezed her hand.

"Are you mad?" I asked softly.

"What?" Santana said, looking back up at me and lowering her sunglasses again, this time taking them off completely. "No, Britt... No, I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine," I said. "Did you have a bad class?"

"No, my classes are fine," Santana replied. "Quinn and I just had a small fight earlier."

"Oh." I tensed up a bit. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Santana said, shaking her head and then forcing a weak smile. "Let's just get some lunch, okay? Come on, the light."

Santana lead me across the street towards this pizza place. It didn't really have enough places to sit at, so she ordered for us to-go, and then we walked to Washington Square Park to sit in the grass. She was pretty quiet the whole time, but it wasn't a completely uncomfortable silence. I was worried I wasn't doing enough to help, but she seemed rather content with us not talking for a while. So I waited. I ate my pizza slice, and then waited some more.

"Do you think Quinn is mad?" Santana looked up at me suddenly, as if she'd just noticed I was sitting with her. I attempted to smile at her weakly, but I guess it was more difficult because of the small frown on my face. I scooted closer to her.

"I don't know," I said quietly. Quinn had seemed annoyed last night and this morning, but I didn't really know how to respond to Santana's question. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her into me. She sighed gratefully and rested her head on my shoulder.

"When I told her about us on Friday, she was really supportive," Santana said softly. "I don't know what changed."

I wasn't sure if Santana was asking me for advice or not. She was sort of just stating things, but the sort of inflection attached to her tone of voice made me wish I could say something back. I had nothing. Quinn was a complete mystery to me, and I was getting the feeling that even Santana, someone that had known her for years, didn't understand her.

"Maybe Rachel knows?" I asked.

"I doubt it," Santana sighed. "Rachel might have this eerie sixth sense when it comes to reading people sometimes, but she's not psychic. Quinn is tactful. She doesn't bottle things up, but she's usually very discreet with what she says. You know what she wants you to know."

"That's complicated," I said wistfully. "That would make her rather good at scheming."

"She is," Santana almost laughed. Almost. "It's probably why she was Cheerios Captain by our Sophomore year."

Santana fell silent again, but this time she picked up each of my hands and placed them over her stomach. She nestled herself into me.

"I'm sorry that Quinn made you feel so unsure of yourself, Britt," Santana said calmly. I would have stiffened, but the way she said it was actually soothing. She ran her fingers delicately over mine. "But no one else can tell you how to feel, okay?"

"I know." It came out quiet as a mouse. I stared down at our hands. If someone had told me that a year ago, would I have believed them? Half a year? When the semester started? Jenna was always telling me what was right and wrong and how to think. My brain always protested. Or at least, it forgot and I'd end up making the same mistakes. But I guess that is a brain's way of protesting.

Santana lifted my hands and bounced them once in her lap. She must have known I was lost in thought, because she twisted to look up at me when my eyes darted up to meet hers.

"What's going on in that cute little head of yours?" Santana asked. I smiled.

"I just remembered you feel with your heart, not your brain," I said, brushing my nose past hers as I gave her a gentle kiss on the lips.

"You're a dork," Santana whispered as her lips spread into a grin.

"So are you," I said, staring down at her and holding her gaze for a moment before I dug my fingers into her stomach in an unexpected and almost aggressive attempt to start a tickle fight.

"B-Brittany!" she squealed loudly. I ran my fingers up and down her stomach, even as she squirmed and wriggled to try and get free. She tried to twist around so she could tickle me back, but I managed to just push her back into the grass. She grabbed my arm and pulled me down on top of her. We giggled and laughed even though I had stopped tickling her, and I bent forward to kiss her. Her hand slid away from my arm and wrapped up beneath my hair and around my neck, forcing me to deepen the kiss. I should have ordered the same kind of pizza as she did. It tasted better.

* * *

><p>"I swear, if it wasn't for the fact that you drove today and I forgot my MetroCard, I wouldn't even be here, Q," Santana scowled, slapping the pamphlet in her hand down against the armrest of the auditorium seat.<p>

"If you don't want to run lines with me, then just say so," Quinn said from the stage, dropping her hands that held up an identical pamphlet to Santana's.

"I don't want to run lines with you," Santana said flatly. "I _want_ to leave so I can go home and get ready for my date."

"Brittany has work right now, and she has to get ready for the date too," Quinn sighed, rolling her eyes.

"It's not _fun_ if she sees me getting ready," Santana spat.

"That's your fault for dating your _roommate_," Quinn said, turning around to shove the pamphlet in her bag.

Santana paused, staring at Quinn for a moment before shaking her head. "Or yours, for not driving me the fuck home," Santana scowled. "Screw it, I'm walking."

"In those shoes? Right," Quinn said as Santana stood from her seat.

"You know what? Okay," Santana tossed her pamphlet aside and then stormed up to the stage. "I've had it up to here with your attitude." She waved her hand aggressively up in the air, and her brow furrowed as she advanced at Quinn. Quinn dropped her bag and crossed her arms over her chest, returning Santana's scowl with a wrinkle of her nose.

"My attitude? You're the one that's consistently a _bitch_, Santana," Quinn said angrily.

"I'm not the one constantly making snide remarks about my relationship with Brittany," Santana snapped. "Do you have a problem with my sexuality or something?"

"You! Ugh!" Quinn groaned, letting her hands rise in the air for a moment before she clenched them into fists and whirled around. "I don't care that you're gay! Why is it that you have to question me being okay with your sexuality, but it's perfectly fine for you to make a mockery of mine?"

Silence fell between the two as Santana's expression, that previously looked as if she were about to snarl, relaxed. She lifted her hand up and brushed a stray hair out of her face, scratched the side of her head and then looked back up at Quinn.

"What?" Santana's brow furrowed again, but this time confusion was drawn on her face.

"You're so self-involved, Santana. You've been hating yourself for years, hiding in your room or drinking away your problems, all the while ignoring the fact that I might have feelings about being alone and single this whole time." Quinn practically shouted with an exasperated look on her face.

"Wait, _what_?" Santana looked stunned. "You're not... not...?"

"I'm _not _gay," Quinn rolled her eyes. "But you're constantly poking fun at me being single."

"I don't understand how that has anything to do with why you've been such a jerk to Brittany."

"I'm not..." Quinn sighed. "I'm... damn it, Santana."

Quinn lifted her hand to rub over her face as she turned and walked to the edge of the stage. She moved to sit down, and Santana slowly walked over and sat down next to her.

"I'm jealous, okay?" Quinn sighed.

"You-"

"And not because you said you used to have a crush on me," Quinn added quickly. "I'm jealous of you and Brittany. That you've had such a strong and immediate connection. I've never had that with you, as a friend, or anyone else. And yes, to some extent, you being a lesbian is a little bit of a slap in the face."

"Care to elaborate?" Santana said, arching her brow. Quinn let out a weak laugh, and shook her head.

"You're going to totally misconstrue my words," Quinn murmured.

"Just talk, Quinn," Santana sighed. She didn't appear to be very patient.

"It's actually rather stupid," Quinn said.

"That word is banned from all our vocabulary, remember?" Santana said, nudging Quinn gently with her elbow. "Spill, Fabray."

"You were in love with me that whole time? Up until Brittany, right?" Quinn said, glancing up at her. "Or at the very least, definitely attracted to women?"

"I stopped being in love with you a long time ago," Santana admitted. "But yes, I'd been in denial about lady-loving until Brittany showed up. Go on."

"So that makes any and all those dates and one night stands you had just you using a bunch of guys to try and convince yourself you weren't," Quinn sighed.

"Drunken mistakes, for the most part, yeah," Santana nodded, looking down sheepishly.

"Well, for you they might have been mistakes, but... For Puck, it wasn't," Quinn said quietly.

"That's not-"

"I know you didn't intend to hurt anyone, Santana," Quinn said quickly. "But I can't say I'm not mad about it. You were in love with me, and he was in love with you... So I _had_ to let him go."

Santana's brow knit together as Quinn looked away sheepishly. Any malice that had been present quickly faded as they sat wordlessly at the center of the stage. After a while, Santana sat up a bit.

"I-"

"You don't have to apologize," Quinn interjected.

"I wasn't going to," Santana said meekly, before letting out a tiny chuckle. "I was actually going to thank you for not saying you were in _love_ with me."

"God, no," Quinn laughed. "Do you actually think that would have worked out?"

"Not at all," Santana nodded as her laughter grew. "Now that I've lived with you? Aw, hell no."

"Likewise, Lopez," Quinn said.

"Wait, so you would have tried?"

"No," Quinn knocked into her playfully. "I'm not into that."

"Good," Santana said. "I thought I'd misread my gaydar when Brittany started suggesting you and Rachel were... something."

"Oh, geez," Quinn sighed. "That's _ridiculous_."

"Whatever," Santana said with a light shrug. "Are you still... in love with Puck?"

"Puck and I... well, we'll always have Beth," Quinn said solemnly. "I think he's been very mature about how he's handled his feelings towards you, though. That actually says a lot."

"But do you still love him?" Santana asked.

"Who knows," Quinn sighed. "That ship set sail the summer trip after high school. Then he disappeared. Part of me was convinced that was why you were so reclusive."

"I didn't really even put the two together," Santana said, furrowing her brow as she picked at the folds in her skirt. "I'm sorry. Was that why you went home early?"

"That was part of the reason." Quinn nodded and then tilted her head to the side. "Okay, most of the reason."

"Wow. That was a long time ago," Santana said, pressing her weight into her palms as she leaned back and looked up at the lights above the stage. "That was like the last time I saw everyone from Glee club."

"Same, actually," Quinn said. "But that's just because you and Puck haven't been back in Ohio since."

The two laid down on the stage, dangling their feet over the edge.

"Nostalgia aside, does this mean you'll lay off me and Britt?" Santana asked, turning her head to look at Quinn.

"I didn't mean to sound so harsh," Quinn replied quietly. "You're my best friend, S. Maybe I got a little protective."

"I can take care of myself, Q."

"You didn't, though," Quinn said, looking to Santana as her brow wrinkled. "For years, S, you didn't."

Santana's lips pursed together and she lowered her gaze away from Quinn's.

"I mean, you did what you had to to survive, but it's like... where have you been for the past few years?" Quinn asked. "You were there. Always present, but you weren't _living._"

"I was hiding," Santana sighed. "For a lot of reasons."

"That's what hurts most, Santana," Quinn said. "That you were all alone, and you didn't even try to reach out for help."

"What was I supposed to say? It was easier just to ignore it." Santana shook her head. "Until Brittany moved in, and then it was just unbearable."

"God, please don't direct this conversation towards how attractive she is," Quinn groaned. "I already know you two go at it all the time. I mean, last night-"

"Not what I meant," Santana said, shooting up off the ground as she glared at Quinn.

"I was teasing," Quinn laughed. Santana smacked her gently on the arm before laying back down.

"It's just when I'm with her, I feel like all this weight is lifted," Santana said. "That I can just be _me_."

"So this is the _real_ Santana?" Quinn smiled. "It's nice to finally meet her."

"Shut up," Santana giggled. "Look, I can't help that I love her. She's like my magnet."

"So it was love at first sight?"

"It was, I think," Santana sighed contentedly. "Maybe, anyway. At the very least, I was compelled to get to know her."

"Really?" Quinn laughed.

"Meeting her would have made my life miserable if I hadn't gotten to see her again," Santana murmured. "Like, if she hadn't moved in, I would have gone back and signed up for every dance class she teaches."

"You're crazy," Quinn giggled.

"But happy," Santana said, glancing at Quinn again and smiling. "Can't you tell?"

"Oh, I can." Quinn nodded. "Definitely can. It intrigues me how your relationship works, though. You're always cuddling and touching. It's like you can't keep your hands off each other, and yet I never really see you two just talking."

Santana let out a hearty laugh that was amplified by the open space of the stage.

"We really can't, can we?" Santana wrinkled her nose. "That's just how it is though. I think it's just part of the way we communicate with each other. It's what makes her such a great dancer, that's for sure. Her body language is amazing."

"Too much information," Quinn sighed.

"Whatever," Santana rolled her eyes. "But you never answered me. You'll be nice to her, right?"

"I am nice," Quinn frowned.

"You told her she wasn't as in love with me," Santana scowled. "That's not _nice_."

"That... I meant that... I just saw how torn up she made you, S," Quinn said, sitting up. "You sat and worried and waited for her all night, you know?"

"Just because she has her own insecurities doesn't mean she doesn't care about me," Santana said. "She does. She loves me."

"I know," Quinn said. "But I don't think she's opened up to any of us enough to truly know her. I mean, where's she even from?"

"Lima, actually," Santana said as she sat up.

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah, she moved to Cincinnati just before starting high school," Santana nodded. "Weird, right?"

"Very much," Quinn frowned. "But I mean, if someone runs out on you and pushes you away like she did... do you even know _why_ she reacted like that?"

"She was bullied," Santana said sternly.

"How? By whom? What's her story?" Quinn shook her head and ran both her hands through her short blonde hair. "She's an adult. She can't be living her life in the past."

"Not everyone is you, Q," Santana said, bumping her fist gently against Quinn's arm. "But yeah... Sometimes I don't know what to do. I was really scared when she disappeared."

"I know you were," Quinn agreed quietly.

"I think things are okay though," Santana said. "Between us."

"Are you sure?"

"No," Santana sighed. "In all honesty, I'm terrified she'll get scared off."

"That's your problem. You don't know how to talk about feelings." Quinn gave a loud and exasperated sigh. "And Brittany... She's too scared to rock the boat, because she _just_ figured out how to steer."

"I don't know what to do," Santana said quietly. "I know I can make it right, as long as she sticks around. But it's those people that tear into her... If I could promise to protect her from people like that, I would, but I've already failed."

I stood silently at the side of the stage, leaning against the wall in the shadows where they couldn't quite see me. I'd wanted to surprise Santana, since she had texted me saying that she would be late running lines with Quinn, but I'd walked in while they were arguing. It was terrible to eavesdrop, I knew that, but they were talking about me for a lot of it. I just couldn't leave. But hearing Santana sound as uncertain about our relationship as I was made my stomach sink a bit, because I was the reason she doubting herself.

"For the record, I don't hate her," Quinn said, making me look up to the stage again. "We've been friends forever, S. And you know I don't care about other people's petty problems."

Santana snorted, as if Quinn had said the understatement of the century.

"I don't. But this isn't a stupid- Sorry, a minor issue. For the both of you, it's big," Quinn continued. "I think Brittany just hasn't had the kind of support you've been neglecting to rely on."

Santana looked up and smiled weakly at Quinn. "Yeah?"

"Rachel and Tina and I are all here for you. Both of you. Mike too," Quinn said. "And I'm really sorry that I wasn't as precautious about Brittany as I could have been. I really should have known... I mean, like before... the look she had on her face when Finn was hassling her... God, it was like she'd seen a ghost."

"Ugh, I swear, I was going to rip him in half," Santana growled. "You all should have let me."

"My point is, all of us need to do a better job of accommodating Brittany into our lives," Quinn said. "I think the only one that has done so, elegantly, is _Rachel_."

I almost laughed, but luckily I slapped my hand over my mouth before it could bubble out of my throat. Santana and Quinn laughed too, so if I had made any sounds, they didn't seem to hear it.

I had to try harder. To be more open to Santana, and for her to be aware that I wasn't going to leave. I wanted to be here, and I wanted her. She focused so much on me. I didn't know how she could do that. I was always thinking about myself, and here was this girl, giving herself so selflessly to me. She put aside all her fears and doubts just to risk it. I had to too.

Maybe I shouldn't have stood there so long. I felt like now, if I did anything, I was just going to make them aware that I had been listening in on their conversation. I turned back to the door.

"I am _not_ taking a leaf out of Rachel Berry's boo-" Santana paused as she hopped off the stage. I was carefully trying to close the door without making a sound, but she caught sight of me. I froze, wondering if it looked like I was walking in or out of the room.

"Britt," Santana said, a smile spreading over her lips. "What are you doing here?"

"I..." I held my mouth open as I looked from Santana to Quinn. She had just jumped off the stage, as well, and was looking at me curiously. "I figured there were only so many auditoriums in the building that you two would be in, so I decided to drop by instead of wait around for you."

"But you had wor-" Santana looked down at her wrist for the time and then frowned. "Shit, it's really late."

"Not that late," I said, stepping forward and smiling sheepishly. I guess they hadn't noticed I was trying to leave.

"Late enough," Santana said, moving towards the first row of seats and scooping up her things.

"I take it you need a ride home?" Quinn asked me as I got closer, holding up her keys and smiling. I gave her a warm smile back.

"That'd be preferable," I said. Santana grabbed me from behind and rested her chin on my shoulder, forcing a small gasp from me.

"We can cuddle in the back seat," she murmured and then kissed my cheek.

"I am not a chauffeur," Quinn frowned.

* * *

><p>"Santana, you said you were going to get ready," I said, puffing out my lower lip as she hugged me from behind as I stood in front of the stove.<p>

"I changed," Santana said. "And now I'm back."

"This is supposed to be a surprise," I mumbled.

"There are totally a million reasons you could be boiling macaroni and cheese noodles," Santana remarked, rolling her eyes and smiling up at me.

"Go sit down," I said, wiggling a bit.

"I don't want to-"

"Brittany, your noodles are sticking to the bottom of the pot," Rachel said as she leaned in at my side to glance at the stove.

"Shoot. Santana, go sit down," I said again. Santana pouted, but she withdrew her hands to trudge towards the living room.

"Get out of my seat, boy-Chang," Santana snapped as she got to the sofa. Mike raised a brow at her and smiled as he scooted closer to Tina.

"Santana, be nice," I called from the kitchen.

"No worries, I know a grumpy Santana when I see one," Mike replied, his smile broadening at Santana. She gently kicked at him, and Tina stretched forward to whack her.

"Just 'cause you can't get at yours doesn't mean you can attack mine," Tina said.

"Can you please hurry up, Britt?" Santana whined, ignoring Tina's comment as she slumped over the side of the armrest.

"You have no capacity for patience, do you?" Quinn said from the recliner. "Your date is going to happen, so just calm down and let Brittany finish making her food."

"I don't care about the food, Britt," Santana practically howled.

"I know what _you_ care about," I laughed. I managed to drain the noodles and start adding the butter and milk to the cheese powder, but there were still a few minutes left on the chicken nuggets.

"Do all your dates just involve making out, Santana?" Tina asked shortly before Santana tossed a pillow at her face.

"No," she scowled. "Come on, Britt. Kurt and Mercedes are gonna be here soon, and I wanna get up to the roof before it gets too crowded in here."

"Are you sure that's the reason?" Rachel asked before biting down on a carrot. She was preparing a small plate of snacks for their movie night.

"What's that supposed to mean, Berry?" Santana barked.

"You are going to tell them, right?" Quinn said. "That you two are dating."

"Of course," Santana said, sitting up. "I just don't want _coming out_ cutting _in_to my date."

"That sounds like an excuse," Tina said softly, and Santana arched her brow as she sat up. Tina lifted up the pillow in her hands defensively.

"I'm not afraid to tell lady Hummel and _actual_ diva Jones," Santana scowled. "They're like the original gays."

"Mercedes isn't gay," Mike said, his brow furrowing with confusion as he looked from Tina to Santana.

"She was going to play Dr. Frank-n-furter, it counts," Santana said with a wave of her hand. "She's an honorary gay. Or ally. Whatever."

"...Santana," Quinn said, shaking her head. "You're misdirecting."

"I'm not, I just would like to enjoy my date with Brittany in peace," Santana said, smacking her palm against the armrest. "Kurt would gush, and Mercedes would want to know all details and background... and I just want to go up to the roof and dance with my girlfriend, okay?"

"We're dancing?" I asked, as I pulled out the tray of dinosaur nuggets from the oven.

"I don't know, are we?" Santana smiled at me as she leaned over the armrest and held her head up in her hands.

"I don't know, maybe," I winked, dumping the chicken nuggets onto a plate. "Help me carry these upstairs?"

"Finally," Santana said as she sprang from the couch. She swiveled around Rachel and grabbed the plate of brownies and one of the bowls of mac n cheese I had scooped out. I laughed at her enthusiasm and wrinkled my nose at her. I nodded my head at the stairwell as we crossed the living room with our hands full.

"You guys really should tell them, though," Mike said softly. I stopped at the second step and looked down at Santana.

"Should we wait?" I asked.

"No," Santana shook her head. "Why don't you guys tell them?"

"You're giving us permission?" Tina arched her brow.

"To tell Kurt and Mercedes?" Santana said looking back to me. I shrugged. "Yes. Better giving you permission than leaving you on your own to try and explain why we're making out on the roof instead of making out on the couch while you losers watch _Toy Story_."

"Toy Story isn't lame," Mike frowned.

"I like Toy Story, Santana," I said. "I didn't know that's what they were watchin-"

There was a buzzing sound from the door and Santana quickly nudged me.

"Up, up, up," she said. "Before they catch us and guilt us into watching a movie with them."

"I wanna watch Toy Story!" I said as she gently shoved me up the stairs. I could hear Kurt and Mercedes as Quinn opened the door, but we had disappeared up to the second floor already.

* * *

><p>"I don't know how you managed to burn macaroni and cheese," Santana laughed, dropping her spoon into her bowl as she wrinkled her nose playfully.<p>

"You were talking the whole time. It was distracting," I said quietly. She was laying in front of me on the blanket I'd laid out, propping her head up with her hand as she smiled gently at me. I knew she was just teasing, but the macaroni had actually turned out terrible. I stretched forward to grab another brownie.

"You've had more dessert than dinner," Santana said.

"There are like so many brownies though," I said, covering my mouth with my hand.

"I see that," Santana said, reaching for a dinosaur nugget. I picked one up and smashed it against hers and made growling noises. She laughed and tried to fight back.

"Stop, no, you're dead," I said, knocking my nugget against hers.

"What? No!"

"Yes, you're a stegosaurus. I'm a T-Rex," I said, grabbing her nugget and chomping down on its head.

"You ate me!" Santana exclaimed.

"You'd love that," I grinned. Santana gasped and smacked the other nugget out of my hand before starting to tickle me.

"St-stop S-Sant-tana," I laughed. "The food!"

Somehow she managed to crouch over me without getting any of the food on her dress. Her hands were raised above my head, placed delicately in mine. Her laughter faded into a gentle smile and she leaned down to kiss me.

"Mm," I hummed softly. I licked my lips as she lifted away from my mouth, peppering soft kisses down my jaw. She froze when she got to my neck and then playfully tugged at my scarf.

"It's not that cold up here, is it?" Santana murmured, pecking her lips just below my earlobe.

"No, it's a Santana guard," I laughed.

"You don't want me to kiss you?" She sat up, resting her butt against my lap as she released my hands. I inched up to look at her and shook my head.

"I'm kidding," I said, lifting my hand to pull my scarf down, revealing the darkened marks she'd left from our previous night's sexcapade.

"Oh my god," Santana exclaimed, leaning forward and catching my hand in hers. She buried her face into my neck, kissing as softly as she could to the hickeys along my neck. They were feather light and apologetic.

"It's okay, Santana," I giggled, letting my hand slide down to her waist. "I love your love bites."

"I'll be more careful next time," Santana said quietly. She tried to sit up, but I wrapped my hand up through her hair and held her down into me, gazing up into her soft, brown eyes as her forehead rested against mine.

"What?" Santana whispered softly after a while.

"Nothing," I smiled. I let my hand fall to cup her cheek and then leaned up to kiss her. "Would you like to dance?"

"With you? Always," Santana said happily. She stood and pulled me up with her. It took me a second to find my footing, but she held my hands firmly until I did so. Once I recovered, I stepped backwards and led her to the middle of the rooftop, center stage between all the lights that were hung up. I was about to let go of her hands so that I could turn on the music, but I glanced around quickly and realized I'd left my iPod in my room. My brow furrowed with frustration.

"First the macaroni, now the music-" I started, but Santana kept her grip on my hands and pulled me close.

"I don't care," Santana whispered. She interlaced her fingers between mine and inched closer, resting her head against the crook of my neck.

Everyone kept saying that it was strange for Santana and I to be so close, because we had only known each other for such a short time. And maybe Santana and I still had a lot to learn about each other. For me, it felt like always. Always and forever, yet somehow it still made my heart race when we were so close to one another. Every dance felt like the first, and every kiss was just as sweet.

I slipped my hands out of Santana's to wrap them around the small of her back, pulling her closer as we rocked slowly around. She nestled further into me and let out a soft sigh. The rhythm was slow and calm and perfect. All my years of training would not have prepared me for dancing with Santana. Even dancing with her before didn't keep me poised. I was nervous and anxious, but there was also a strange normalcy to it.

It must have been the lights. It made things seem surreal. They were gorgeous. Rachel was right. They were like stars. They might not have been real stars, but it was the closest we could get here in Manhattan.

When Santana whispered sweetly in my ear, I was flooded with this overwhelming feeling of warmth and intimacy only she ever could bring out in me. My fingers dug into the fabric of her dress and I shut my eyes tightly. It was weird that even when I closed my eyes, my sight was filled with color from all the twinkling lights that had lingered in my vision.

"Britt...?"

I misstepped and nearly forced Santana to stumble with me. She dragged her hand up to cup my cheek and I leaned forward, resting my forehead down onto hers.

"What's wrong?" she asked, running her thumb beneath my eyelid to wipe away a small bit of wetness I didn't realize had gathered there.

"...Thank you, Santana," I whispered softly. I felt her brow move against mine.

"For what?"

"It's just... I love you so much," I said. "And I know I mess things up, but I don't... I don't want you to worry. I'm not going to leave."

"Britt," Santana breathed softly, and her lips were so close to mine that they were practically touching. Her other hand reached up to hold the other side of my face. "I know."

"No, Santana," I shook my head lightly. "I can't... I didn't mean to make you scared of the same things I am. _You_ don't have to be scared. Please don't be scared. I _won't _leave."

"...Sweetheart." Santana's hands moved to grip my arms as she stood on the tip of her toes and kissed my forehead. It was a tiny gesture in comparison to so many other things we did, but it was the one I needed most. She guided me back to the blanket and sat me down, smiling weakly at me until we were both nestled into each other.

"What sparked this?" Santana asked sweetly. She brushed a strand of hair out of my face. "Was it because I was upset at lunch? That was because I was mad at Quinn-"

"No," I said softly. "No, I... I heard what you and Quinn were talking about." I kept my gaze down and avoided her eyes. I didn't want her to be mad at me, because I knew it was wrong to listen in. I hadn't meant to. I really hadn't.

"Back at the auditorium?" Santana asked. I nodded sheepishly and she let out a small laugh. "Britt, even if I am a little scared, it doesn't mean that this isn't going to work.

"I've been scared this whole time," Santana admitted. When she paused, I lifted my head up a bit to look at her. Her brow was slightly furrowed, but she kept her eyes on me as she spoke. "About everything. Getting caught. My sexuality. How my friends were going to react. Everything _but _you."

"But you said to Quinn-"

"I'm scared that you're going to get scared, yeah," Santana nodded. "But more so that I won't be able to help if that happens."

"That's not okay," I whispered. "For you to be worried about that."

"We're not going to let that happen, though, right?" Santana nudged her nose against my cheek.

"Not if I can help it," I sighed.

"Then no worries," Santana said, smiling before kissing my cheek. "Not on my end. What about you?"

"I... I trust you," I said softly, tickling my fingers over her hand. "Everything I've gone through tells me I shouldn't, but... You're different than anyone else I've ever met. You care about _me_. You take the time to get to know me when no one else does. So I can't help it. I love you."

Santana sighed softly and hugged me closer. "I couldn't _not_ love you. And I don't understand people that don't love you either. You're amazing, Brittany."

"I guess I've just not known very nice people," I murmured softly.

"Well, you have me now," Santana kissed my temple.

"And that's all that matters," I sighed.

"All that should matter," Santana agreed. "But if you ever want to talk about anything, even if it's old news, Britt... I'm here. So is everyone else, but I want you to tell me if there's anything bothering you."

"Okay."

She pressed her forehead to mine and I smiled.

"I'm glad Quinn and you straightened things out," I said softly.

"Yeah, me too," Santana said. "I guess that was eating at you too?"

"A little bit," I murmured.

"That's fair," Santana nodded. "Being Cheerios, Quinn and I weren't always the nicest people. We both have a bit of a mean streak. I'm sorry you got caught in the crossfire."

"I want to know more about you being a Cheerio," I said, picking at her dress. She laughed and shook her head.

"No, you don't," Santana said. "We were mean ass bitches. You don't want to know more about that me."

"Then when you were part of Glee?"

"Best part of high school," Santana whispered. "But don't let anyone else know that."

"I promise," I smiled, quickly finding her pinky and linking it with mine. She laughed again and leaned in close enough to kiss me.

"Tell me about you," Santana said. "I want to know everything about you. Who was your first crush? Your favorite class - not dance, though. Where in Lima did you used to live?"

"So many questions," I giggled.

"I have a million," Santana grinned.

"What do you want to know most?"

"Hm," Santana leaned back. She looked thoughtful for a moment and then smiled.

"When did you know you were attracted to girls?" Santana asked, but then sat up. "No, wait. Where did you get Jeremy? I want to know that most."

"That's actually a very interesting story-" I started, but a small cry cut me off. I looked up in time to see a tuft of neatly arranged hair appear from the fire escape ladder, and a second later, Kurt was climbing over the wall onto the roof. He was joined almost immediately by a just as enthusiastic looking Mercedes.

"Good god," Santana groaned.

"-Guys, seriously, I said no," Quinn shouted from beyond the wall.

"You're the one who has been complaining about the seating arrangements all night," Kurt called and then turned his attention back to us. "Hellooo ladies."

I stifled a giggle as Kurt and Mercedes practically pranced over. Kurt paused and did a small twirl under the lights.

"Oh la la, all this for a date?" Kurt smiled. "This can't _possibly_ be Santana's doing."

"Shut up, prancy smurf," Santana said. Her brow furrowed and she had a scowl on her face. "I can be romantic."

"As we've heard," Kurt said politely. The rest of them slowly filtered up to the rooftop, minus Rachel.

"-Can someone please help me up the stairs?"

"Rachel, I thought you came up here before," Quinn said, rolling her eyes and walking back to the ladder to help her up.

"It doesn't mean I _like_ climbing the fire escape! They are for emergencies!"

"Rachel mentioned an Aquarium?" Mercedes said, glancing back as her brow furrowed with concern at Rachel's misdirected attempt at climbing over the wall. Quinn managed to pull her up, and rolled her eyes when Rachel quickly composed herself and pretended like she hadn't just been struggling with the ladder.

"Two Aquarium dates, if I'm not mistaken?" Rachel said as a small, knowing smile spread over her lips.

"You do realize that this is a _date_, right? Meaning two? Dos. _Mi amor_ y yo." Santana lifted her hand and pointed between us.

"And although most of us don't understand Español, speaking Spanish isn't going to hide the fact that you just admitted you are in _love_." Kurt smiled and arched his brow at Santana as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Is that what that means?" I whispered, turning to look back at Santana. I caught sight of her blush and couldn't help but wrinkle my nose.

"Oh, come on, you two," Mercedes said with a wave of her hand. She reached down for Santana's hand and Kurt did the same for me as we were both pulled up off the ground. Kurt spun me around and laughed while Mercedes pulled Santana into what looked like an extremely tight hug.

"You _know_ you didn't have to hide this," Mercedes said softly. Santana flicked her eyes to me from the embrace and shook her head gently before parting.

"'Cause, girl, you are fierce, femme, and-"

"-Phenomenal, I know," Santana nodded as a smile crept over her lips.

"Was this really your date?" Tina asked, stepping forward and looking around.

"Yes. Now you can all conveniently go back downstairs," Santana snapped. Kurt let go of my hand and I quickly snaked my arms beneath hers and hugged her from behind.

"We've all already seen Toy Story," Kurt said, lifting his hand to tap one of the lights. "I think it's a much better plan to embarrass you, Santana. It's the least I can do."

"That's not fair-"

"_Teen Gay_," Kurt announced, waving his hand dramatically in the air and gesturing to Santana. He bowed politely and then threw his hands to the side. "You may now proceed to the next checkpoint. You are now entering adulthood."

"That was for your own-" Santana looked flustered. "I-"

"Rude," I laughed, not really knowing the context of the statement. She let her hands drop to cover over mine and sighed.

"-I'm sorry," Santana murmured.

"High school was not any easier because of you," Kurt shook his head. He looked up at me and winked. "But it wasn't all bad. We all know you're a sarcastic bitch."

"Takes one to know one," Santana replied. I squeezed her tighter.

"Finest compliment you've ever given me, Santana," Kurt said. "Now, Brittany, I apologize that we climbed through your window, but Rachel mentioned you two were going to be dancing." He reached into his pocket and delicately pulled out my iPod. "It's rather hard to dance without music, isn't it?"

"It's much easier than you'd think," I said softly, and Santana glanced at me. I craned forward to look at them all, from Kurt to Quinn, as I sway Santana and I back and forth slowly. "Would you care to join us for a dance?"

"A rooftop dance party?" Mike smiled and took Tina's hand in his.

"Love to," Tina grinned, giving him a small curtsy before he twirled her beneath the lights to join us. I smiled when Quinn and Rachel exchanged an awkward glance. I almost laughed at the relieved look Quinn gave when Kurt scampered over to grab Rachel's hands. Mercedes rolled her eyes as she went to drag Quinn forward as well.

"Only if I can sing, Kurt," Rachel insisted. She looked like she was pretending to protest, but a grin was plastered on her face.

"God," Santana twisted in my grasp until she was facing me.

"You don't want Rachel to sing?" I asked.

"I don't care what they do, as long as I can dance with you," Santana murmured.

"My thoughts exactly."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: It's like the theme is _dancing_ or something.**

**Songs:**

**Stereo Love by Edward Maya ft. Vika Jigulina (Unplugged Acoustic Version) - I don't have a link to this because I can't find it on youtube.**

**I just came to say HELLO by Martin Solveig & Dragonette - watch?v=OMINnQNpcnc (I imagine that this is the song the gang sings/dances to on the rooftop, but it was a better _written_ ending where it is right now.)**

* * *

><p><strong>Phoenix hemo<strong>: First off, no. A love triangle between the Unholy Trinity wouldn't really make sense, not with what has happened thus far in the story. Second, the story I 'co-wrote' with Wonderland was intended to be a oneshot. She insists that I'm co-writer, but that story is her baby more than it is mine. I want to encourage her to work on it, but we don't really have a lot of extra time to do multiple projects. We may go back to it, with the completion of ITYTD, but I have more of my own projects planned.

**Guest**: I don't think Brittany is a brat, but you're welcome to your opinion. The first half of what I've written was really focused on Santana, so after Santana came out to Mike and Tina, my intention was to shift the focus back on Brittany's insecurities. I think Brittany has a childish and playful demeanor and her insecurities almost outweigh Santana's because she hasn't had the support of the Glee club for as long as Santana has. If the switch in focus has portrayed Brittany as such, I can see in some instances why she seems like a brat. She keeps running the same problem over and over in her mind in the past few chapters, and problems like Brittany's don't go away just because a wonderful girlfriend says she loves her. But as vague a statement as you made, the criticism is welcome and surprisingly constructive when you put a positive light to it.

**Jaelynne17**: Songbird is a minor theme throughout Brittany's nightmares; since Santana's appearance started, I've been referencing a birdcage and Santana's apparent inability to sing on stage. Tina also has made reference to Santana being a 'chickadee', which is a type of songbird. As much as I want to have Santana sing Songbird to Brittany, I'm not sure if it will happen in this fic. As for the 'scissoring' reference... You'll have to wait and see, I suppose. ;]


	39. The Makeover

"S-slow down, Britt."

I let out a bubbly laugh and spun around, quickly grasping Santana's outstretched hands tightly in mine and pulling her forward. She stumbled into me as she stared down at her feet, one hand slipping out of mine to grasp my shoulder. It shouldn't have, but the way she clung to me like her life depended on it made me laugh even harder.

"It's easy, Santana," I said, helping her catch her footing again.

"For you," she huffed, exhaling sharply so that it blew back the hair that had fallen in her face. I scrunched my nose and leaned forward to quickly peck her on the lips. She mumbled something incoherent as I drew back, letting her hands slide down my arms and reconnect with mine.

"What was that?" I grinned from ear to ear.

"I said that kissing me isn't going to change the fact that I suck at dancing," she said, just a little louder.

"I like to think of it as ...positive reinforcement," I winked, playfully waving our hands back and forth.

"I _can_ do this," she groaned. "I used to dance all the time in glee club."

"Good, good," I cheered, leaning in to kiss her again. "The kisses work."

Santana held my hands firmly to keep us lip locked, exhaling audibly through her nose. When she broke the kiss to breathe, I noticed just how out of breath she was from the dancing we'd been doing over the past hour. It hadn't been that strenuous, but with the combination of the crunches and stretching I made her do before hand, maybe she wasn't quite ready to handle more than an hour practice. I stopped to break down the spot turn she kept messing up because she'd just been getting worse and worse with each attempt.

"You're not too dizzy, right?" I asked.

"Maybe a little," she replied, nudging her nose against mine and slipping her hands up my arms to put more weight into me. I smiled weakly as she closed her eyes rested against me. I'd never had such an intimate dance partner, even if this wasn't really an intimate dance.

"We can stop," I said softly, lifting my chin up so that she could rest her head more comfortably against me.

"I need to get better."

"You will, but one practice isn't going to magically do that," I chuckled. I wrapped my arms around her back and held her close. We were both a little sweaty, but it didn't really matter. We could just take a shower when we got home.

"I'm tired," she mumbled into my collarbone.

"I see that."

"I'm going to hurt like hell tomorrow," she grumbled.

"Probably," I laughed.

"I have really shitty stamina," Santana groaned. Her hands moved to cling around my waist as she leaned into me for support.

"I wouldn't say that," I said. I could see the sly grin crawl across my lips from the studio mirrors. "You don't have any trouble keeping up in bed-"

"Britt!" Santana gasped, shooting backwards and staring up at me.

"What? No one's here but you and me," I laughed. She grinned back and I started to sway back and forth again.

"That was not what I was talking about," Santana giggled.

"I know what you meant. The whole point of you dancing is so you can do it while you're singing, right?" I rose my brow at her and smiled softly. She took in a breath and held it, and I felt her tense in my arms just a second before she broke away from me.

"Yeah," she said with a slight nod. "But I can't do that when I can't even keep up with Quinn and Rachel in Mike's class." She tossed her hand weakly in the air as she turned to walk back towards the middle of the room. She gave an exasperated sigh and lifted her outstretched hand to brush her long, normally side-swept bangs out of her face.

"That class just wasn't for you," I said with a shrug. "Everyone learns at their own pace, right?"

Santana glanced up at me. For a second, I wasn't sure what the look on her face meant, but her frown disappeared into a warm smile and her brow furrowed lightly. She took a few steps back towards me and reached for my hand. I was more than willing to let her take it.

"Exactly," she said as she stared down at my hands. I had been expecting her to pull me towards her, maybe even have her spin me around, but instead she just ran her thumbs over the ridges that were the joints in my fingers. Her gaze was so earnest and calm despite how anxious she had been moments before about how much work she thought she needed to do.

"You okay?" I asked. It was moments like this I wished I could read her mind. Santana was sometimes very easy to read, but other times she could be a complete mystery to me. Her expression was a bit perplexing.

"Yeah, yeah," she all but laughed as she nodded her head and looked up at me. "Everyone learns differently. I'm just glad that you're my mentor."

"Dancing is my thing," I shrugged. "It's not a problem. But I don't know much about singing, Santana."

"I'm fine with singing," Santana said. "Maybe a bit rusty, but I've got that covered. Even if I have to ask _Rachel _for help..." She wrinkled her nose. I knew it wasn't sincere, because her lip curled slightly as she tried not to smile.

"Well, the major problem with motion while you sing is that you're using up all your oxygen, right? You just need to find a way increase your stamina and lung capacity." I stepped away from her and turned towards the back of the room where my iPod was.

"If you're suggesting we up our rigorous nightly routines, I am _not_ opposed." From the mirror, I could see her cross her arms over her chest as she smirked. I grinned brightly and expelled a laugh, but shook my head from side to side.

"Not that I don't _love_ our 'nightly routines'," I paused, because repeating her choice of words almost made me laugh again, "we hardly get enough sleep as it is. And you work late."

Santana practically sauntered over to me as she wrapped her arms around my waist from behind. She rested her chin on my shoulder as I unplugged my iPod and swiftly pocketed it.

"Then what do you recommend we do?" she hummed softly in my ear. Her hands moved from my waist to rest gently on my stomach. They were just low enough that, in combination with her voice, it was surprisingly suggestive and sensual. My mind went a little blank as I tried to remember what I was about to say. I felt my throat contract and I audibly gulped. I guessed she could hear it, anyway.

"R-running," I stammered. She perked up a bit and her hands moved up, as if her whole body was surprised by the suggestion.

"Running?" she repeated and arched her brow.

"It's uh... cardio, right? That helps. I like running," I replied quietly. Santana smiled and rested against me again, returning to her previous position.

"Since when do you run?" she asked just before pinching her fingers lightly at my waist. I jolted a bit, giggling as I playfully slapped at her hands.

"I run _all the time_," I scoffed.

"When? I've never seen you go out or come back from running," Santana said, swaying gently from side to side as she spoke.

"Well, _yeah_, I guess I haven't really gone running all that much since I moved in," I remarked, looking up as I tried to remember the last time I had actually gone for a run. I'd gone out a few weeks back. Like, my first week at the apartment.

"See?" she said as she straightened up.

"But it's not true that you haven't seen me go out running. That one time, I came back from a run and you saw me changing-"

"-Oh god," Santana laughed, and buried her face in my shoulder. I grinned, because she seemed almost as embarrassed as she had been when it happened. I grabbed her hands from my sides and pulled them forward to wrap tighter around me.

"It's not like you're not used to that by now, right?" I giggled.

"Sh-shut up." Her voice was muffled, but I could tell she was still laughing.

"Either way, it's not my fault I haven't been running. It's yours."

"How is that my fault?" She shot up and gasped at me, her mouth hanging open slightly.

"Well, _someone_, I won't say names, is addicted to _cuddling_," I said, flicking my eyes to hers in the mirror before rolling them away.

"You like cuddling!" she exclaimed.

"Not more than you do. You're a cuddle _monster_!"

"I thought you weren't saying names," she pouted.

"I didn't."

"You still accused me," Santana said with a frown. "And can you blame me?" She lifted her chin to plant a gentle kiss on my cheek. "_You_ make it extremely difficult to get out of bed every day."

She shuffled even closer, something I thought was almost impossible with her hugging me from behind, but it was like she was trying to nestle her whole body into me. I hummed quietly, because despite how hot we got from exerting so much energy, whether it was dancing or otherwise, I always found myself slightly overwhelmed by the warmth that emitted from her body. Sometimes, I wondered if Santana could read my mind. As much as I could tease her that she was addicted to it, I had to admit that I hardly ever managed to find the strength to get out of bed first either. But that was just because starting the day meant more time to be away from her, and I'd grown used to spending every resting moment with her.

"So if I got up first to run, would you join me?" I arched my brow.

"I think there are very few things I wouldn't join you in doing," Santana murmured.

"What if... I wanted to visit an active volcano?"

"If only to make sure you were safe, sure," she laughed.

"Travel to the arctic to track down polar bears?"

"Definitely. You still need to show me an albino one."

"Hang glide over Mount Everest?"

I felt her tense ever so slightly and I almost started laughing. I squeezed her hands gently to assure her I was joking, but she straightened a little bit and pulled away from my ear.

"Are these all things you really want to do?" she asked, her voice sounding a mix of terrified and amused. I shrugged. She squeezed me lightly and sighed. "As much as the thought of hang gliding terrifies me, I'd do it if you asked me to."

"I would never ask you to," I said softly. "But if you're up for it, you should be my running partner."

"Running partner, dance instructor, roommate, _and_ girlfriend?" Santana said with a laugh. "You're racking up quite a list of titles."

"Yep!" I said, peeling away from her arms and turning around to face her. I tapped her nose gently with the tip of my index finger. "In the meantime, it'd help for you to clarify your song selection."

"For what? Running?" She stared up at me, puzzled, as she wrinkled her nose.

"No, for your independent study," I said as I spun around to grab my bag off the floor. "There's no point in me teaching you choreography to songs you're not singing, right?"

When I twirled back around to look at her, Santana had her arms crossed over her chest with her brow furrowed. My smile faded to match her frown and I looked at her quizzically.

"This is going to be more work than I thought it would be," she mumbled.

"Independent studies are never easy," I said with a nod. "But we'll figure it out."

Again, she paused, only to nod slowly with her expression remaining stagnant.

"Speaking of things we need to figure out," she started, stopping to kick her foot against the ground. I didn't like the tone of her voice or the way she kept stopping. It made me nervous.

"You only have that one class with those girls, right? On Friday?"

I inhaled sharply through my nose and held it. A lot had been on my mind the past few days; Avery, Tara, and Madison were not exceptions, but I had been doing my best not to think about them. I was a little anxious, mostly because Santana and I had just gotten over some rough patches, and I wasn't really prepared to handle any more curve balls. I still really wasn't sure if everything was resolved with us, let alone all the other people involved.

"Yeah, just Friday," I said quietly, looking to the ground to avoid Santana's gaze. "Though sometimes I run into Tara and Avery between classes if I'm in the area."

"Which is why I'm glad we've been hanging out at NYU," Santana said, leaning against the stand that held the sound equipment. "But avoiding them isn't going to change the fact that they're a bunch of self-entitled assholes that deserve to be knocked down a peg or eight."

"You promised you wouldn't do anything to get either of us in trouble, Santana," I said quietly, hoping to remind her without sparking an argument.

"I'm just thinking out loud," Santana said, pushing away from the sound equipment and walking a few steps to her own bag and scooping it up to sling over her shoulder. "I haven't figured out a way to fix this yet, but for now... try to avoid being alone with them and keep your phone on you, okay?"

"You don't have to fix anything, Santana." I tilted my head to the side and rubbed my neck. "It's not worth it-"

"You are worth it," Santana interjected, swiftly raising her hand to cut me off. "And as your girlfriend, I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you feel safe, okay?"

"Santana..."

"No, Britt," she sighed, shaking her head as she closed her eyes. "_You _are the one that said words are just destined to be broken promises. I can tell you every day that I love you and that I'll protect you and keep you safe, but unless I back those words with actions, nothing is going to change."

She glanced away at the ground and pursed her lips tightly. I shifted my weight to my back foot as I watched her closely. I felt my heart start pounding. Had Santana talked to Rachel recently? After our date last night, I didn't think there would be any reason for Rachel to bring it up.

"You might be okay when I'm with you to talk about it, but Brittany, this kinda thing doesn't just go away," she said, stepping towards me. When she looked up at me, I looked down to avoid her gaze. "I'd love for me to be able to kiss you and us to live happily ever after, but the reality is that those girls exposed you for every vulnerability you have. And until you believe in yourself, no amount of words or kisses is going to repair the damage they dealt to the both of us."

I didn't know when she had gotten so close to me, but suddenly she gently placed her fingertips to my jaw and applied the lightest, yet most forceful pressure to tilt my head up enough to look me in the eye.

"They really hurt you, too..." I said in a whisper.

"In the worst way," she sighed sadly while she cupped my cheek.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize on their behalf," Santana said and smiled weakly. "I just want you to be able to trust me."

I held my breath as I scanned her eyes. I could tell she was searching mine, but I wasn't entirely sure what she was looking for.

"I know you don't, and that's okay," Santana replied. "We're working towards that."

Santana was a lot more patient than even I gave her credit for. I hadn't really expected to feel so nervous about my class on Friday, mostly because I'd been doing everything to not think about it. Of course, Santana was right, but it startled me that she had such keen perception. It baffled me that I could love her so much while still not being able to trust her completely.

"I want to," I exhaled.

"I know, sweetie," Santana cooed. She strained up, meeting my lips with hers, holding there for a few seconds. When she pulled away, she kept close enough for me to feel her breath. "I know."

Her hand stroked my cheek a few times until I leaned into it. I mumbled, "Thank you."

"It's fine. As long as you and I are on the same page," she said. I nodded.

"Come on, then, let's get going before it gets too late and Rachel starts hounding us about taking the right subway home." Santana grimaced. "She's legit the only person I know that texts full paragraphs for simple questions like, 'Where are you?'"

"She'd probably say, 'Brittany, is Santana with you? It's rather late at the moment, and I just want to be sure that you managed to catch the right subway. What is your estimated time of arrival?'" I giggled, doing my best to imitate Rachel's tone of voice.

"Oh, shit, you know she would actually type out 'estimated time of arrival', too, instead of just writing ETA," Santana laughed. We were chuckling quietly to ourselves as she wrapped her arm in mine when my phone buzzed from my bag. Santana froze for a second as I rummaged to retrieve it.

"Speak of the devil," I laughed.

_Hi, Brittany! Are you and Santana coming home soon? I just wanted to know because I know you normally do have class late on Tuesdays, Santana has work soon and the next subway that will get you home in time is leaving in approximately 15 minutes. - Rachel Berry_

"Jesus Christ," Santana spat, rolling her eyes and grabbing my phone out of my hands.

_Learn to text like a normal person and just ask 'when will you be home', hobbit._

* * *

><p>Standing in a crowded subway carriage during rush hour was typically something I tried to avoid as much as possible. Today was an exception to that rule for one very specific reason. Santana and I had extremely busy days on Wednesdays. I had a dance composition class in the morning and kinesiology, while she had a music mixing and a music writing class. It wasn't that we didn't normally have two classes a day anyway, but the way our schedules worked out made the amount of time we got to spend together very minimal.<p>

Instead of meeting up for lunch, Santana sent Rachel to accompany me while she and Quinn went to eat before Quinn had work. Lunch with Rachel was fairly entertaining, and I spent most of it listening to her complain about one of her professors. Afterwards, I had class, came home to change, and then ran off to work for my Introductory Hip Hop class. When Santana sent me a text asking me if I wanted to grab dinner with her, I almost ended my class early. Unfortunately, my boss stopped by and kept me a bit later than I anticipated and I missed the subway I had wanted to take.

I was smushed between people, holding my hand straight up over my head, when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced around me and cautiously retrieved my phone. I didn't mind texting on the subway before, but I would really have to kick myself if I got my new phone stolen after Santana spent so much money on it. It only took a second to read the message, but I felt my heart deflate.

_I just got abducted by Kurt and Mercedes. I have to cancel our dinner date. I'm so sorry, Britt-Britt. :( - Santana_

I stared at the screen a moment longer and then swiftly tapped on the on-screen keyboard.

_It's okay. I'll grab some food and wait for you?_

Once the message sent, I held my phone close to my chest and glanced around. The subway was coming to my stop. It felt a bit like what I imagined cattle felt like to be pushed and shoved towards the doors, but it was alright because I would have to switch trains to get home anyway if Santana told me not to wait up for her. Once I was out on the platform, my phone buzzed again.

_No, I don't know what they're up to or how long it will take. Maybe you could go to The Rabbit Hole and hang with Quinn, since you're already out? - Santana_

I wrinkled my nose at the suggestion instinctively, even though Quinn and I were _okay_ now. I didn't quite know how to get to the bookstore Quinn worked at, but it wasn't that late yet.

_I'll do something. Don't worry about me and have fun with Kurt and Mercedes. :) _

I was on the escalator when I got a response back.

_Oh hell no, I'm going to gripe and groan the whole time no matter what it is. - Santana_

I stifled a laugh. Santana had a very interesting way of showing her friendship with other people. If I didn't know better, I'd say she hated most of her friends.

_Don't give them too much trouble, they're probably just excited for you. :] I'll see you at home if you're not back before work. _

_Fine... Love you. - Santana_

_ Love you too. ;P _

I managed to navigate towards the direction of The Rabbit Hole thanks to that map app that my phone had - it took me a moment to remember how Rachel had set the navigation settings so it was walking directions instead of by car - and found a food cart a few blocks from the building. I was just finishing paying for a soft pretzel when I was abruptly tackled from the side. I let out a small cry; my first instinct was to slap my hand over my pocket where my phone was, but I was being held in a tight embrace by a familiar face. I barely avoided spraying salt residue all over Tina whilst brandishing my pretzel in the air.

"Hey, Britt," another voice said, and I looked up to see Mike waving at me.

"Mike, Tina," I gasped and was released from the hug. Tina stepped back and leaned into Mike, smiling from ear to ear.

"Didn't quite expect to run into you here," Mike said, looking around and then back at me. "The studio and Juilliard aren't close at all."

"I was supposed to meet up with Santana," I replied.

"Where?" Mike asked as he furrowed his brow.

"Oh, not here, we had a date," I said, waving my hand a second too late as I realized I was still holding the pretzel. More salt flew off of it and I shyly lowered it. "But she had to cancel last minute because of Kurt and Mercedes."

"That's a bummer," Mike said.

"What are they doing?" Tina asked, looking more than intrigued.

"I've no idea," I shrugged, and took a rather large bite out of my pretzel. "But I guess I'ma go hang out with Quinn?"

"We're headed there now," Mike chimed and nodded in the direction I had been walking from. I glanced back and then forward up the street. My phone had been directing me the wrong way. Or maybe I'd been reading the map wrong.

"We're bringing Quinn food," Tina said, lifting up a white plastic bag that had a yellow smiley face on it.

"It's dim sum," Mike said happily. His grin was infectious, and yet Tina didn't seem to have the same reaction as I did. Her mouth curved into a small frown as she let the bag drop back to her side.

"Leave it to your white friends to ask their Asian friends to grab them lunch from Chinatown," Tina muttered.

"It's not like we weren't already there," Mike chirped, hugging her closer to him from the side.

"'Cause you needed to get 'real' rice," Tina grumbled. I stifled a small laugh as Mike's grin faded immediately into a frown.

"My mom uses this brand," Mike said defensively. "I didn't like the kind you bought at Whole Foods."

"He's extremely particular," Tina said to me as she rolled her eyes. "It _has _to be a specific grain size and quality, from a particular brand... it's just chaos."

"I didn't know rice was so involved," I said as I spun around to fall in step with them.

"I didn't either," Tina whispered.

"You should come over sometime for dinner, Britt," Mike said, leaning forward to look at me from Tina's other side. Tina smiled and placed her palm on his chest.

"That you actually should do, because Mike is a really good cook," Tina laughed.

"Nah, not really. Just picked up tips from growing up around my mom and grandma," Mike said with a shrug. I nodded, grinning brightly. Santana was a good cook, too. I wondered if she had spent a lot of time learning or if she had just grown up with it in her family.

"The way to someone's heart is through their stomach," Mike continued.

"I'll agree with that," I giggled. "Santana makes awesome pancakes. And weird Spanish food I've never had before."

"You two should have a cook-off," Tina said, clapping her hands as she looked up at Mike.

"No offense, Brittany, but I'd definitely win," Mike said, puffing out his chest a little as he walked. I scoffed and shook my head.

"No way, Mike," I said loudly. "You're on. Santana will own you."

"Look at you, calling shots for your girlfriend," Tina laughed, nudging me gently with her elbow before nestling herself into Mike's side. "No worries. I have more than enough faith in my boyfriend."

I opened my mouth to retort, but my phone buzzed in my pocket. I stopped abruptly as I pulled my phone out. Tina and Mike paused to glance at the screen.

_Kurt is trying to give me a makeover. This is fucking bullshit. - Santana_

"A wha-?" I laughed.

* * *

><p><em>What kind of makeover? You're already hot. - Britt-Britt<em>

Santana glowered over the screen of her phone and started to tap aggressively at the keys when her phone was suddenly snatched out of her hands.

"Focus, Santana," Kurt said as he held up a shirt over her chest. It wrinkled where her hands were held out and she gave him a stern, if not harsh glare.

"I am not down for this," Santana scowled, ripping the shirt from Kurt's hand and tossing it back at him.

"Santana, stop complaining," Mercedes said, draping a pair of pants over her outstretched arm. "Lord knows you need new clothes."

"There is nothing wrong with my clothes," Santana spat.

"Except I know you wore that shirt in _high school_, Santana," Kurt sighed as he held up another shirt over her front. "And you were hardly ever out of your Cheerios uniform."

"I am not wearing that," Santana growled.

"It's a cute color," Kurt said, pulling it away before Santana could tear her clawed hands at it.

"It's _flannel_," Santana said, arching her brow as she pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest. "I know what you're doing, and this gay intervention thing is not cool."

"On the contrary, dear," Kurt said, setting the shirt on the rack before leaning against it. "We think it's fine and dandy that you're a lesbian, Santana. We just want to help you foster your identity, and clothes are a great way to express that. Mercedes, no."

Santana glanced back at Mercedes, catching a glimpse of something multicolor that looked a bit sparkly as it was whisked away and tossed back on a shelf of shirts. The pile of shirts varied in design, but she could make out a unicorn on one of the shirts and frowned.

"Too much?" Mercedes shrugged.

"I think subtlety may be better suited for Santana," Kurt replied as he stroked his thumb delicately under his lower lip.

"Subtle or not, I don't have to change my wardrobe," Santana said, flicking her wrist at the jacket Kurt held up for her. "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I have to dress a certain way. News flash, Kurt, I don't need to wear a sign over my head that says 'likes girls' or get rainbows tattooed to my tits. I have a girlfriend. There's no need to advertise myself."

Kurt shifted his weight, falling on his back foot as he stared at Santana. He continued to rest his chin between his thumb and his index finger, scanning her over. He silently placed the jacket back on the rack and smiled.

"I do appreciate your sleek sense of style as it is," Kurt replied as he flicked his hand over her shirt sleeve. "And I'm glad to hear that you feel comfortable in your own skin."

"I told you she wouldn't be down for it," Mercedes replied. "And I'm glad, because he wanted to take you to get a haircut after this."

"What?" Santana snapped.

"I stand by what I said," Kurt shrugged. "For some people, clothes are just as much an identity to them. It was more of a suggestion than anything else. I still think you should get some new clothes. If not for yourself, for your girlfriend."

"Oh, we can go to Victoria's Secret next," Mercedes said excitedly.

"Ah," Santana opened her mouth to speak before pausing. She held up her hand to Kurt and then slowly turned to Mercedes. "Alright, okay. I'm fine with that."

"Dear god, I wanted to help make you look fabulous, Santana, not pick out clothes you only wear to rip off," Kurt groaned.

"You're the one that said I should buy clothes for my girlfriend," Santana smirked as she started to sift through shirts in front of her.

"Bras and things are your department," Kurt sighed as he flicked his hand at Mercedes. "But Santana, maybe you should get a haircut, your ends are a little frayed."

"Talk about my hair one more time," Santana growled, pointing her index finger threateningly at him.

"Partying it up and sleeping all day for three years doesn't mean you've taken the best care of yourself, sweetheart," Kurt said, bravely stretching forward and swiping his hand over her bangs.

"Maybe just a trim, okay?" Mercedes said, gripping Santana's shoulders and directing her back to the circular stand of clothes. She gave Kurt a stern look, mouthing the words, 'stop it,' before smiling pleasantly at Santana.

"Mercedes, please make sure I don't _kill_ twinkle toes over here," Santana grumbled. She angrily shoved several hangers of clothes aside, returning to her own search. Kurt smiled triumphantly and Mercedes shook her head.

"Lord, give me the strength to shop with these two," Mercedes grumbled.

* * *

><p>"O' 'ore,' he said, lifting his chopsticks to shove another dumpling of sorts into his mouth. Quinn grimaced as Mike struggled to close his lips around the morsel of food, and even Tina and I quieted for a second to lean back in case he decided to spit it at us. After a silent but valiant effort, he successfully managed impersonate what I would assume an Asian breed of chipmunk looked like.<p>

"Don't choke," Quinn said with a high pitched laugh as she scrunched her nose in mock disgust. Mike made a sound, but none of us could really figure out what it meant. It took him a minute or two to actually swallow it all.

"...F-four," he gasped when he could finally speak again.

"My turn," I said with a grin as I tried to seize a dumpling with my chopsticks. It slipped and fell back into the plastic dish.

"If you're trying to break his record, just... no, five dumplings, Brittany, it's impossible," Quinn said, wrinkling her nose.

"Even if it isn't, I don't want to see that," Tina laughed.

"I can do anything Mike can do better!" I said adamantly as I snapped my chopsticks in his direction.

"I can do anything better than you," Mike replied, winking at me.

"No, you can't," Tina chimed.

"Yes, she can," Quinn said loudly, grinning as she grabbed the plate of dumplings and placed it in front of me. She stretched over the pile of food and grabbed a fork from the plastic smiley face bag and jabbed it into a dumpling for me. It was a little bizarre for the four of us to be crowded around the cashier counter in the small bookstore Quinn worked at, but the atmosphere was surprisingly fun. The smell of the books clashed a bit against the smell of the chinese food, but the scenery definitely felt like a place Quinn would be. She was calmer than I'd seen her at home, and it was surprising to me how playful she was at her work.

"Aaah...!" I opened my mouth wide as I gripped the fork in my fist. Quinn started giggling and shook her head before I could even shove the second one in.

"Don' lau'," I tried to say. "You're su... pos' 'oo be 'teering 'or 'ee."

"What was that?" Quinn laughed.

"I think she said you're supposed to be cheering for her," Mike said, squinting his eyes quizzically at me.

"Sorry, sorry," Quinn said with exaggerated wave of her hand. "You can do it, Britt!"

"Please stop," Tina squealed, twisting as she pretended to shield her eyes. I managed to stuff a third one in my mouth, but it was getting difficult to breathe.

"You're getting really red," Quinn giggled.

"Go, Britt, go!" Mike slammed his fist on the countertop, and Tina lifted her hand to smack him lightly on the forehead.

"You're not supposed to cheer for her," Tina retorted.

"Why not?" Mike said. He extended his hand to point at Quinn. "She's not giving enough morale support."

"'op 'alkin'," I made noises that hardly sounded like words at all.

"Don't talk, eat," Quinn said, stabbing the fourth dumpling and handing it to me. "You're gonna beat Mike's record. Come on!"

"O' or'," I shook my head and held up one finger for Quinn to see.

"That makes four," Quinn nodded. I grimaced as I tried to stuff the last one in my mouth. Quinn and Mike started chanting my name in unison while Tina shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. I felt like my cheeks were going to burst open like a water balloon, but I was able to close my lips together. When I did so, Quinn cried out with a loud cheer and held out her hand for a high five. I smacked my hand to hers and then winced as I tried to figure out how to swallow the food in my mouth.

"I'm impressed," Mike said as he placed his hands on the back of his head. "Even if you can't beat the record, you managed to match it."

It took me longer than it took Mike to chew and swallow all the dumplings. I sort of regretted it, because my eyes were watering and for a second I thought I was going to choke, but Quinn poured me a glass of water and that helped a lot. Mike gave me a pat on the back after I'd finished swallowing all of it, and then made me bump fists with him. I gave him a toothy grin and he leaned back in his stool.

"So, Quinn mentioned you're reading The Chronicles of Narnia?" Mike asked as he separated his fortune cookie in two.

"Sorta," I breathed, still trying to recover from the dumpling escapade.

"How far are you?" Quinn asked.

"Like, halfway through the first book," I said and took another gulp of water. "I didn't want to keep reading without Santana."

"You're reading it together?" Tina asked. A small smile appeared on her lips as she folded her hands together and rested her chin on them. "That's cute." She nudged Mike with her elbow. "Why don't we ever do things like that?"

Mike froze. It was evident that he had just tossed half the fortune cookie in his mouth, because his hand was held out in front of his face and his cheek puffed out to the side. Quinn, Tina, and I started to laugh while he crunched on the cookie and hung his head.

"'S not my fault," Mike murmured. "I'd read to you if you asked. How am I supposed to know if you don't ask?"

"Did you have to ask Santana?" Quinn asked and both she and Tina arched their brows at me.

"No," I shook my head and smiled weakly. Last night, after our dance practice, Santana saw me take Quinn's book out of my bag and just curled up with me to read it. After a few pages of her reading faster than I did, she offered to read it out loud. I had been right to want her to read to me, because I fell asleep to the sound of her voice.

"Santana is such a good girlfriend!" Tina pouted.

"Hey!" Mike objected, scooting the stool he was sitting on a few inches away from Tina as he turned to stare at her. I let out a small giggle and shook my head as I stretched to grab my fortune cookie.

"But you're a great boyfriend, Mike," I said, looking down and unwrapping my packet. Everything I'd seen about Mike and Tina's relationship seemed perfect, even after I found out that Mike broke up with her when he graduated high school. He was always thinking about Tina and her well-being. Not only that, but he was a really good person, too.

"Thanks," he said softly. He held up his fortune and gave a small smirk before rolling his eyes. "'You display wonderful traits of charm and courtesy.'"

"That's actually true," Tina said, nudging him again. He bowed his head and shook it. Tina picked through the pile of cartoons and food wrappers until she found a piece of paper. "At least yours doesn't say, 'A handful of patience is worth more than a bushel of brains.'"

"You _are_ a pretty patient person though," Quinn said. "You used to live with _us_, remember?"

"What does yours say, Britt?" Mike asked. I cracked my cookie in half and unfurled the fortune from within.

"'You have a remarkable power which you are not using,'" I read slowly. I shrugged my shoulders and tossed it on the table. "I think Tina and I got mixed up."

"I don't think so," Mike said, smiling at me. "Not that you aren't smart, too," he added quickly before pecking Tina on the cheek. She wrinkled her nose and swatted at him.

"What about you, Q?"

"You do realize that they print hundreds of the same fortunes, right? They don't mean a thing," Quinn sighed as she rolled her eyes.

"If you're not going to read it, I will," Tina said, quickly snatching the tiny piece of paper from Quinn's hand.

"Damn it, Tina!"

"'Your emotional nature is both strong and sensitive'," Tina said as she held one arm out to keep Quinn back. "Well, that one isn't true _at all_." Tina gave Quinn a sly grin.

"I think it fits Mike better," Quinn said with a light shrug. "Swap?"

"Uh-uh, the one you pick is yours," I said, shooting my hand between the two. "It's bad luck to swap."

"Says who?" Quinn laughed.

"Says me," I said with a small grin.

"Even if it's not true, they don't really mean anything," Mike said with a light shrug. "Although, I _am_ pretty charming." He winked.

"Alright, Prince _Charming_," Tina said, smacking her palms against his back as she stood up. "You've got work."

"You do?" I looked up as Mike laughed and got off his stool.

"Yeah, yeah, ballroom." Mike nodded and held out his hand politely for Tina. "Going to join me today?"

"I'd love to," Tina giggled as she curtsied.

"You guys wanna join?" Mike asked, looking up at Quinn and I as he pulled Tina closer to him.

"I've got work for another half hour," Quinn replied as she looked to the clock above one of the bookshelves.

"I'm still waiting on Santana," I shrugged lightly. "Maybe next time."

"Don't wait up too long, if Kurt's got his hands on her, it'll be forever." Tina gave me a small smile.

"I'll just wait with Quinn and we can go home together?" I looked up at Quinn and she gave me a nod.

"Alright. You guys are going to Mercedes' party on Friday, right?" Mike slung his bag over his shoulder as Tina stacked the stools on top of each other and placed them back behind the cashier station that Quinn was sitting behind. I glanced to Quinn again and she smiled.

"We'll be there, probably."

"See you then. Be safe," Mike said with a wave.

"Text me pictures of this makeover, Britt," Tina called as they got to the steps of the entrance way.

"As long as you don't use them for evil," I said, narrowing my eyes at her. Mike gave her a look and she cowered slightly under both our glares. Mike shook his head and waved again before they disappeared out the door.

I twisted in my seat and looked back to Quinn. She was gathering up the cartons of Chinese food and tossing them into a plastic bag, so I sat forward and helped her. It was a quick and silent process, and in a matter of minutes, the area was clear again and free of the sounds of rustling plastic. We sat in silence for what only could have been an additional few seconds, but I started to feel a bit anxious. I hardly ever spent time with Quinn alone, and the few times I had weren't very pleasant ones. I looked up at the clock to see how much time we had to wait.

"Would you like to play?"

I paused, eyes widening, as I looked back at Quinn with a bewildered look. After a moment, I realized she was gesturing to an old looking chess board that was past her, just below the clock.

"Chess? Against you? No. It's all about strategy and planning ahead. I'm not good at that. You seem like you'd be a pro."

"Only when you can read your opponent." She stared at me for a moment, her expression remaining the same except for a slight curl of her lip. "I still haven't been able to figure out your motivations for... well, _anything_, really."

"That's because I don't have any. I'm not playing a game." Instead of being reassuring, the smirk she wore only made me feel more intimidated. She said she couldn't figure me out, but she was the one that was confusing.

"I'm normally better at reading people, but you're very hard to predict."

"Do you think I have something to hide?" This was what Santana meant about Quinn being tactful. She was smart, and only said things you needed to know. Maybe she was trying to get to know me better, but I felt more like she was fishing for information. I felt literally on the edge of my seat around her.

"No, hiding is Santana's thing. I don't think hiding is what you do. You're meek and lack confidence, but you stay pretty true to yourself in spite of all the bullying you've gone through." She stood up and moved next to the chess board.

"So you think I should have changed to what people want me to be?" I wrinkled my nose slightly.

"Not at all. I'm just a person that likes to know where I stand at all times. Whether someone is a friend," she said quietly, pausing to carefully twist one of the chess pieces - the queen - to face the same direction as the rest of the pieces. "Or someone I need to be weary of."

"What's your game, Quinn?"

Quinn looked up quickly and met my gaze. Her eyes narrowed for a split second before she replied calmly. "Sorry?"

"How can you go from being friendly with me one second, around all our friends, welcoming me in and acting like everything is okay, and then the moment we are alone start questioning me about _my _integrity?" I almost stood up from my seat. "I'm not interested in the schemes or confusing ploys that you seem to operate in. I still don't even understand what 'Operation Lady Pants' was or what you wanted to gain from that..."

"Ah, so this isn't about me. This is about Santana." She sat back down and spread her hand over her skirt to flatten any wrinkles. I didn't know how she gathered that from what I'd said, but she wasn't wrong.

"It's always about Santana, isn't it?"

"Apparently so," Quinn said quietly. "I know that you love her, but love is also _just_ a word, Brittany. You have to act on it as well for it to be true."

"I have acted on it!" I snapped. She was twisting around my own words on me.

"I know, Brittany, I see that. And I want to make an amendment to what I said before. I do think you love her. But is it enough?" She sat back a little, calmly folding her hands over her knees. "Maybe it's just because I'm a guarded person, but... I'm scared for the both of you. When this honeymoon phase of your relationship is over, and Santana is finally grounded again, what happens?"

"W-What are you saying?" What was Quinn suggesting? That Santana would change? Or that I would? Was she insinuating that Santana would outgrow me? That I wouldn't be needed anymore or maybe Santana would find someone better? I felt my heart thump erratically in my chest at the thought.

"That might have come out wrong. I just mean that relationships are complicated, and not always easy. And when things get tough, you _can't_ run away again."

I stared blankly at Quinn. Maybe, just maybe, I had misjudged her. Sure, she made things extremely complicated for me, and she wasn't as welcoming or understanding as Rachel or Mike or Tina, but it suddenly clicked for me why she acted the way she did. It was the same reason Tina had spoken to me at the dance studio the first week I moved in. I didn't know if they aimed to terrify me, but they did it because they wanted to protect Santana. Like Tina, Quinn wanted to know for sure that I was prepared for what I was getting myself into, even if I didn't know exactly what that was.

In the time since I'd first met Santana, I had grown a lot. I could feel that. Everyone said Santana had changed, but maybe I had too. But one thing had not changed; my resolve. Santana's friends - no,_ our friends_ - were challenging me not because they didn't believe in us, but because they didn't know how else to help. It was obvious Santana wouldn't reach out to them, not from their experiences with her in the past anyway, whether that was out of fear or pride. Whatever Santana's reasons for how she acted before, she was different now, and maybe I was the only one that wasn't so caught off guard by it.

"I don't want to run-"

"-It's not about what you want, it's that you _can't_, Brittany-"

"-I won't. I won't run, and I won't ever abandon her. I _don't_ leave." I stood up this time, placing my palms firmly on the counter as I stared her down. She pursed her lips together and held her gaze.

"You did before."

I almost flinched. She'd set me up for that. I saw in her expression, the way her lip twitched ever so slightly and her brow furrowed just a bit deeper, that she'd been intending to drive our conversation to this exact point. She didn't trust me anymore than I trusted myself to let Santana in.

I exhaled softly and sat back down. Rubbing my hand lightly through my hair, I let out a small whisper. "No one has ever come back before."

Quinn fell silent and her brow knit closer together as though she didn't quite understand.

"Pushing her away was the same as her leaving, Quinn," I tried to explain with an exasperated sigh. "To me, it's the inevitable same end result; I'll be alone. Why waste time? But Santana is the only person that has ever found their way back to me. At the end of the day, it's not about who did the leaving or the pushing away. It's that she cared enough to fight my stupidity-"

"You're _not_ stupid," she said in a voice softer than I expected. Her expression had shifted as well.

"-Regardless, she's fought for me more than anyone else has. Even fighting _me_ to do that. I'm not about to change my mind about loving her. Not when she's fought so hard to win my heart, and was kind enough to give me hers."

Again, Quinn was quiet. We sat in silence a moment, before there came a small, stifled laugh. I didn't know what was so funny or why Quinn's shoulders started to shake, but my cheeks actually puffed out a bit with frustration. I was being serious, and here Quinn was laughing at me.

"It's just that... B, you better not ever break her heart..."

"-Never," I breathed. I couldn't, I wouldn't, ever do that to Santana. "I love her-"

"I know." She nodded, smiling gently at me. "But I'd be more than willing to beat the shit out of her if she breaks yours."

* * *

><p><em>Quinn is weird. - Britt-Britt<em>

Santana glanced down at her phone, before flicking her eyes back up to the mirror in front of her. She was seated in a salon chair with a plastic shawl over her front and back. Her hair was damp, and she caught sight of Kurt chatting excitedly with a tall, olive skinned man. He had black hair with a wide streak of red in it, expertly combed in a way that seemed to defy gravity and black thick rimmed glasses. Santana rolled her eyes as she returned her gaze to her phone.

"Even when he's the one giving me the makeover, he manages to out gay himself," Santana grumbled.

"Let him flirt," Mercedes chuckled as she flipped a page in a magazine.

"Not when I'm sitting here with my hair wet," Santana scowled. She brought her phone up to tap a reply.

_Why is Quinn weird? What did she do? Do I have to kick her ass?_

"Sorry for the wait," the man said as he stepped up next to Santana's chair. "Your friend knows quite a bit about hair for someone that doesn't cut it."

"He knows a lot about everything," Mercedes muttered as she buried her nose in the magazine.

"How long do you think this is going to take?" Santana said, looking directly up.

"You said you just wanted a trim, so not long-"

"Uh-uh, you need to thin it out at the bottom, layer it, and give it back its volume," Kurt said as he appeared at Santana's side. She glared at him and pursed her lips together.

"I promise you I won't do anything you don't want me to," the man said, holding up his comb defensively as he gestured to Kurt. "But I think layers are a good suggestion."

"I have layers," Santana frowned.

"They've grown out a lot, Santana," Kurt said, picking at a strand of her hair. She smacked the back of his palm and he quickly retracted it. "No need to get so snippy."

"Why don't we go get pedicures or a massage or something, Kurt?" Mercedes said, snapping her magazine shut and slapping it at her side.

"But I want to watch Ace cut her hair," Kurt whined as he was shoved a few steps back.

"I'll pay for it, just go the fuck away," Santana growled.

"Done," Mercedes answered before Kurt could reply.

"You'd better look stunning when I come back, Santana," Kurt called.

"Don't worry, in my hands, she'll look gorgeous," Ace waved as the duo rounded the corner of the salon. Santana let out an exasperated sigh and pressed her hand to her forehead. "Rough day?"

"You've no idea," she sighed. Her phone buzzed in her other hand, and she quickly perked up to answer it.

_Not at all. She ended up being ...super nice. Will you be home soon? She and Rachel are talking about making cupcakes. - Britt-Britt_

"It can't have been that bad. Santana, right?" Santana nodded as Ace turned to grab a pair of scissors. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion, just Kurt being his fabulous self," Santana shot her eyes in the direction of the exit, despite it being empty. She tapped back at her cell phone.

_I'll be home as soon as I'm done. Sorry if I miss the cupcakes, sweetie. - x o x o_

"Texting someone important?" he asked with a polite smile as he settled behind Santana and looked at her in the mirror. She dropped her hands in her lap and shyly met his gaze for a split second before averting her eyes.

"Yeah," she huffed.

"Boyfriend, perhaps?" Ace arched his brow as his smile widened. He lifted his hands to sift through Santana's dark hair, separating the damp locks into sections.

"No, no," Santana shook her head. "My um, girlfriend, actually."

"Oh?" He paused for a split second and then nodded. "That's wonderful. What's her name?"

"Brittany," Santana said, straightening up a little.

"Well, she must be something special considering the expression you make when you're texting," Ace said as he twisted. "But it'd probably be better if you didn't while I cut your hair. Don't want to mess up, or she'll probably kill me, right?"

"I don't think she could hurt a fly," Santana chuckled as she slid her hands beneath the plastic sheet.

"No, of course not," Ace laughed. "So, Santana, you're fine with this length, correct?"

"Yeah. Just do what Kurt said," Santana waved her hand weakly in the air. "I was just giving him a hard time because he dragged me here and made me cancel my date."

"What?" Ace cried. "He deserves a hard time, then."

"Nah, he's just getting back at me," Santana laughed. "I was a jerk to him before. Just don't mess with the bangs too much. They're a pain in the ass when they're too short."

"Not a problem," he grinned. "So Kurt isn't as bad as you made him seem?"

"No, not really," Santana said. "Why?"

"He gave me his number." Ace shook his head and Santana joined him in a small laugh.

* * *

><p>"Stop, you're putting in too much flour, Quinn," Rachel exclaimed. She was standing next to Quinn over a large, pink bowl. Quinn stopped pouring the flour and leaned back to give Rachel a look before she held the cup up a bit higher in the air.<p>

"We measured it out exactly beforehand, Rachel," Quinn said flatly.

"Yes, but you have to sift it in, you can't just dump it in one large clump!"

"You don't even _eat_ cupcakes," Quinn retorted.

"I have said this a million times. Just because I don't eat it doesn't mean I don't know how to make it." Rachel puffed out her cheeks as she stood a little straighter to try to match Quinn's height.

"But _why_ do you know how to make all this food you don't eat? Isn't the point of you being vegan to abstain from the use of animal products? You're still _using_ them by cooking them!"

I sat across from them at the kitchen island, twisting casually back and forth in my bar stool chair as I observed Quinn and Rachel's cupcake making procedure. The entire time, Quinn and Rachel were bickering back and forth, correcting one another on the 'right' way to make cupcakes. I was under the impression they were pulling from two separate recipes, but there was only one book sitting out on the counter.

"I know what I'm doing, Rachel," Quinn said, shoving her aside lightly and turning over the cup of flour. Rachel shot her hand forward at the last second, causing a bit of the flour to shoot out of the bowl and pour over them in a powdery rain of smoke.

"Rachel!"

"You should have listened!" Rachel spat. Her hand was clenched in a fist, gripping the remaining handful of flour. Quinn grasped her hand and tried to force the flour into the bowl.

"Rachel, just drop it," Quinn scowled.

"Stop, no, Quinn, you have to mix it," Rachel howled, and then glanced back at me. "Brittany, help!"

"I think you're messing up enough already, I don't wanna set anything on fire," I laughed, raising my camera from where it rested on the counter.

"What are you doing? Don't take a pictur-" Quinn shouted as I pressed down on the button. A loud snap could be heard, and I grinned.

"Britt, the lens," Rachel said, releasing her hold on the flour, accidentally showering Quinn in the rest of the white powder.

"Rachel!"

"This is awesome," I grinned, quickly removing the lens cap. I toggled the switch to make it video and sat up in my chair. "Wave!"

"There is flour _everywhere_," Quinn spat at Rachel.

"Baking is _supposed_ to be fun!" Rachel shouted back. "We can clean it up afterwards."

"Just get the milk," Quinn said, raising a hand to her forehead. She realized a second too late that she rubbed a white streak across her face.

"Calm down, Quinn, you're the one that wanted to make cupcakes to start with," Rachel said, her voice settling down a bit as she pulled out a carton of milk from the refrigerator.

"I thought Brittany was going to help," Quinn sighed, waving her hand at me. "Brittany, stop recording us."

"I'm helping with the post-oven work. Like, icing and stuff," I said adamantly. "And no way, you guys are super cute."

"We're what?" Quinn arched her brow.

"Brittany, we talked about this," Rachel said as she passed the milk to Quinn. "Quinn and I are _just_ friends."

"Santana and I started off as _just_ friends," I replied, lowering my camera to look up at them.

"That. Just. No," Quinn waggled her finger in the air and stepped forward to grab at my camera.

"Don't, your hands are covered in flour!" I cried and scrambled out of my chair.

"Stop filming us!" Quinn said, racing around the kitchen island to meet me. "Rachel, grab her from the other side!"

"I have a girlfriend!" I squealed.

"That is NOT what I meant!" Quinn scowled. I took the opportunity to dodge Rachel's hands and slip past Quinn into the living room. I spun around and hopped backwards to the stairway.

"Operation Lady Pants 2.0 is underway," I jeered.

"Stop recording, or the iPhone gets it," Quinn said, lifting my phone up off the counter. I gasped and quickly clasped my camera's video screen shut. "Good, now get back here."

"Unfair," I pouted. I slumped my shoulders and stomped back to the kitchen. Quinn wiped her hand on her pant leg before taking my camera away and setting it on the counter.

"Why are you recording videos of us anyway?" Rachel asked.

"I like taking videos. And pictures and stuff," I said with a shrug.

"That's right," Quinn replied as she tilted her head to the side and crossed her arms. "You said something about that ages ago."

"Mm, yeah. I've always kinda wanted to do a web series. Or like, video journalism? Is that what its called?" I sat back down and picked up my phone to spin it on its corner against the counter.

"Isn't that, like, vlogging?" Rachel asked.

"I guess," I shrugged and kicked my feet to the side of the kitchen island. "I don't really know how to go about doing that."

"Make a youtube account," Quinn said after she poured the measured out milk into the bowl. Rachel shot her a glare, but Quinn ignored it. "Do you still need help getting the videos off your camera?"

"Yeah, it said something on the box about a 'firewire'," I said, lifting the camera up and rotating it slowly in my hand. "But isn't that dangerous?"

"It's not actual _fire_, Brittany," Quinn laughed. "It's just the name of the cable. Like... a firebolt broom from Harry Potter. It just means it's fast."

"Oh," I said flatly. "That makes a lot more sense."

"I have an extra one up in my room. We can figure it out later, okay?" Quinn smiled before spinning back around to give the cupcake mix her full attention. Rachel looked up at me and grinned. She held a finger up to her lips to signal for me to be quiet, and I furrowed my brow curiously. Then she raised her hand, open palm, and I realized what she was doing.

"Shit, wait!" I cried as I scrambled to turn on my camera. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to capture the video of it, but I did get a rather nice picture of a white handprint on Quinn's ass as she shouted at Rachel.

"Ass ass ass ass," I giggled to myself while Rachel ducked for cover.

* * *

><p>The sound of rustling made me snap awake. I sniffled loudly and shot up a few inches, immediately met by darkness as I opened my eyes. There was a soft sound that whispered in front of me, and then a warm hand met my cheek. I exhaled and leaned into Santana's hand just as she scrambled to join me on the couch. There was a moment of confusion between the two of us and the dark, with our legs and the blanket and me being half asleep, but she swiftly resolved the situation and nestled down on top of me.<p>

"Hi," she whispered quietly. Despite how tired I was, I strained to keep my eyes open so they could adjust and I would be able to see her.

"Hi," I all but croaked. She exhaled a quiet chuckle and kissed my cheek.

"Why are you sleeping on the couch?" she cooed, her warm breath striking my neck as she nudged her nose against it.

"Wasn' sleeping..." I murmured, groggily raising my hand to rub beneath my eye. I sniffled again and hummed softly when her hand slide down my side. She wasn't doing anything but grabbing the comforter to pull it up properly over us, but the feel of her nails dragging over my shirt was always a bit sensual. "I was waiting... for you to get home."

"Of course you're not sleeping," Santana purred. "How silly of me to assume."

"Did you eat?" I asked, blinking wearily.

"I did. At work," Santana said, raising slightly to look down at me. "There were also some rather delicious looking cupcakes on the counter. I helped myself."

"The rainbow one was for you," I yawned.

"I guessed that," Santana giggled, lowering to kiss my lips. I was a bit caught off guard, but hummed contentedly as I strained to press into it. She tasted like toothpaste, not cupcakes. It was then that I realized she wasn't wearing her work clothes either, and that she was dressed in her pajama shorts as I dragged my hands over her bare thighs. She must have been home for a while now.

"What time is it?" I asked in a small whisper. My voice was still a bit scratchy.

"Late. Let's get you up to bed, hm?" she said and started to rise up off of me, but my fingers gripped tightly to the small of her back to hold her still.

"Let's stay here," I muttered.

"Okay," she whispered back, laying back down into me. I gazed up at her and she smiled. My eyes were adjusting to the dark, and even though it was hard to see, I could tell she wasn't wearing make up either. She looked different, somehow, and I lifted my hand to gently run my fingertips over her cheekbone. She closed her eyes and leaned into my hand.

"Sorry about dinner," she sighed.

"It's okay." I let my fingers slide back so that I could stroke her cheek with my thumb, but my other fingers brushed into her hair. It was softer than I expected, and then I remembered Kurt and Mercedes took her out shopping. I let my hand play through her hair, and she let out a happy sound as she snuggled closer to me. "You cut your hair."

"Not too much," Santana said, resting in the crook of my neck. "Is it okay?"

"It looks great." I nodded and wrapped my other arm around her back as I continued to tickle my fingers over her hair. It smelled good too, and it was super soft. "I was wondering why you looked even prettier."

"Stop, dork," Santana giggled, smacking her palm against my shoulder. I chuckled and nodded my head. We laid nestled together in silence, and I listened to her breathing slow down as it tickled my ear. I could tell she was tired. She usually was when she came home so late from work, and I sort of wished she didn't work such late hours.

Even though I was asleep when Santana came in, I wasn't very tired now that she was dozing off in my arms. The way her chest rose and fell against mine and how stray strands of her freshly cut hair tickled my neck were some of my favorite little things about her, and I wanted to be awake a little longer to enjoy them. I liked the weight of her on top of my body. I felt like we hadn't laid like this in a while. The past few nights, which felt more like weeks, I had been curling into her and seeking out her embrace. It was nice to have her resting on me. In a small way, it was like she needed me instead of me needing her so much. In other ways, it was as if her resting on me enabled me to contain everything that threatened to burst from my chest.

Today hadn't been miserable, unlike other days had been when Santana and I had conflicting schedules. I still missed her and longed for moments like these, but having friends that knew about us and not having to hide the fact that we wanted to be together made it easier to cope with. I could talk freely about Santana and no one would wonder why. On top of that, it was suddenly easier for her not to be the sole topic of conversation for me. I guessed that us hiding and her constantly being on my mind before made it difficult to contribute.

The warmth, the happiness, and the subtle glow I felt whenever we were together and even apart was still new to me, despite how accustomed I'd grown to sleeping with her every night. I stared up at the ceiling for a while, only tearing my gaze away when Santana murmured sleepily and shifted in my arms. A smile spread over my lips as I realized that I could get used to this. To us. And maybe, just maybe, trusting Santana wouldn't be so hard.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the delay in updating. For the record, there are 11 more chapters after this. I'll do my best to update more frequently, but I'm sorry if school and work conflict with it. The new semester always starts with a bit of an adjustment and we had almost the whole month of August dedicated to training for my job. **

**I've not been able to answer all the questions people have and I don't want to take any more time away from updating, so you are always welcome to tweet me (chromeheartbeat) or message me on tumblr (monochromeheartbeat). Again, so sorry. I'm motivated again, if that's any consolation.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT know how to dance. At all. So I apologize if I am ever inaccurate on anything. Feel free to call me out on it. **


	40. Jeremy: Part 1

My mind was full of color. Splotches of red and blue, swirling as they were churned together into a sea of white, slowly merging to purple. Puffy, yellow clouds contrasting the darker, brown tinged spongy material they rested on. Sprinkles. Some of them looked like crystals, others were just dots of color, splashed and peppered against the towering spirals that threatened to fall over as their height gained. Laughter and messes blurred together in the background like a kaleidoscope.

A small shift in pressure on my chest caused all the whimsical pictures to fade to darkness, dissipating like ink in water. It was slow to fade, just as I was slow to wake. I inhaled sharply and found that the bubble of air caught a little in my throat. My initial thought was panic; I couldn't breathe. But then a wisp of warm air brushed against my neck, and my body relaxed. The tightness of my chest was the weight of Santana's body on top of mine. My hands were curled against the small of her back, and she was drawn into me so tightly that I was surprised we weren't burning up being bundled underneath the blanket on the couch.

It had been a good dream. I was afraid that the moment I opened my eyes, all the luminosity of it would be lost. I'd been thinking of the cupcakes we'd made last night, and with Santana sleeping noiselessly in my arms, it was rather difficult to be bittersweet about her absence last night.

Although I didn't want to wake her, I couldn't help as my fingers slowly slid up against her back, raking delicately through the fabric of her shirt. It was soft and almost silky beneath my fingertips, not so unlike the visual of the cream puffed icing in my head. I tilted my head towards hers and my cheek was met with the curls of her hair. Inhaling, I could smell the faint scent of some unfamiliar shampoo lingering. In that moment of sleepiness, I was having a difficult time not thinking of how delicious and sweet she was. A smile crept over my lips as her voice echoed in my head. _Wanky_, she'd say. It wasn't, though. Nothing about this moment was sexual. In fact, it felt like absolute bliss.

I didn't know how much time passed. My eyes were still closed, and I felt perfectly content waiting for her to wake up as I drifted in and out of sleep. Still, I felt it when she shifted again. I noticed the change in her breathing and the rate of her heartbeat as she buried her nose against my neck. She breathed in audibly and gripped her fingers into my side gently, humming just before her lips moved to graze my skin. She lingered for a moment, and I felt the muscles in her back tighten beneath my hands. She shuffled a bit, moving her hands at my sides as she redistributed her weight against me. I held her still when she tried to rise, and she let out a soft chuckle.

"You awake, baby?" she whispered. I smiled, but kept my eyes closed.

"Mm-mm," I denied.

"Uh-huh," she replied, shifting again. I held my hands steady, but she wasn't moving to sit up. Her hair dragged gently across my neck, and suddenly a feather light kiss was planted on my lips. She drew back, and I waited a second until she bent forward and kissed me again. I smiled into her lips and let my hand pull up to wrap around the base of her neck. I was starting to understand how a kiss could wake someone up. She dipped her whole body into me, humming happily while dragging her hands slowly down my sides.

"-Morning to you too," I breathed when she finally let me. I opened my eyes to gaze up at hers and was surprised by how vivid they seemed. It was as if she'd drawn the color straight from my dreams.

"Mm, definitely a good morning," Santana replied.

"What time is it?" I asked, twisting my head to the side as I stretched my hand out to reach for my phone on the coffee table. She caught my hand before I managed to reach it, tangling her fingers in mine and bringing them up to her lips.

"Early. Quinn and Rachel aren't up yet, so that means we still have a ton of time to sleep," she said, and I giggled. She nestled herself back down into me as she lifted our hands to above my head. Her forehead rested against mine a moment, letting me have my laugh. She looked amazing, especially now that I could see her properly. The light from the window in the kitchen wasn't all that bright and cast a sort of foggy shadow on everything, yet it also made her skin look radiant. All of her did. Part of it was the way her hair fell. She'd slept in a way that left it mostly untouched, so whatever had been done to it besides the cut was still there.

"You're beautiful," I murmured, raising my hand from her back and letting my fingers run up against silky dark locks.

"You're still half asleep," Santana giggled, wrinkling her nose against mine. Maybe I was. Or maybe I was just dazed by how happy I felt. Even more so when she kissed me again. I'd been expecting it, because her eyes closed just before she leaned down. She was slow and a little lazy, but perfect all the same.

It wasn't long before her lips were trailing down my neck and her hands were sliding further along my sides. She dug her fingers into my hips, and my breathing hitched.

"Santana," I chuckled, trying not to sound desperate for her touches. That would only encourage her. "We're not supposed to do this here."

"Why not?" she breathed before skating her tongue up my neck.

"'Cause we agreed. The roommate agreement," I said weakly. I had to close my eyes and crinkled my nose. Her fingers were playing with the band of my pajama pants, but stilled after I spoke. She lifted a bit and I peeked one eye open to look at her. She smirked as she arched her brow, probably because I was biting my lower lip. She lowered again, brushing her lips against my cheek before she stopped just over my ear.

"I'm down for breaking a few rules," she whispered. Her voice was low and raspy from just waking up, but the combination of the words she spoke and they way she said them was almost overwhelmingly seductive.

"We should..." I tried not to groan as she nibbled my earlobe. "Probably use our time... for your running or something. You..." God, she needed to stop, because I wasn't going to be able to make her. "Wanted to get better at dancing."

"Mm, so thoughtful," she muttered. "Can't this just be a warm up?"

My fingers dug instinctively into her back and she laughed quietly. I couldn't really argue with her. She had me tongue-tied - literally, because a second later, her lips were back on mine. In no time at all, my hands were up her shirt and hers were tugging down my pants. If I was excited, I don't know what she was. Her hands made quick work of my pants, despite us being confined by the comforter and our legs tangling together. She was just rising to slip her own shorts off, when there was a loud clatter from up the stairs.

"Every morning," a voice groaned, and another bang against the bathroom door echoed downward to us. Santana froze for a second and stared down at me.

"Every freaking morning," Quinn repeated. "No matter how early I get up, you are always in the bathroom first."

I stared up at Santana with a bashful smile as we could hear the door swing open. "It's not my fault you ignore your alarm the first two times," Rachel's voice spoke.

"I do not," Quinn scowled.

"Your room is right next to mine," Rachel replied.

"Just give me my damn toothbrush," Quinn growled. Santana's eyes widened, and suddenly both of us sprang up to scramble for my pants. She found them first and quickly tugged them back up my legs as we heard stomping down the stairs.

"I should just keep my stuff in the downstairs bathroom," Quinn almost shouted up the steps.

"Maybe you should," Rachel replied cheerfully, as if she couldn't tell Quinn was upset. Santana twisted and brought the covers back over us before she settled back into her spot with her head resting against my neck.

"Pretend you're sleeping," she barely breathed. I smiled and closed my eyes. I didn't know why, but somehow it seemed less incriminating to be asleep than to have Quinn find us snuggled up against each other on the couch awake.

Quinn continued to stomp down the stairs, grumbling quietly about how much time Rachel spent in the bathroom, until her footsteps stopped abruptly. I had my eyes closed, but not being able to hear her anymore made me nervous. She must have seen us by now, and I wasn't sure if I looked convincing enough. I was having a really difficult time not smiling, and I was sure I wasn't the only one. Santana's hand gripped mine tightly and squeezed under the blanket. I think she was trying not to laugh.

"Quinn, did you want your face wash too-"

"Shush!" Quinn hissed. "They're asleep."

"Oh," Rachel said. "That's adorable."

"Stop talking," Quinn whispered. There was bustling and the bathroom door under the stairs clicked shut as we listened to Rachel going back up the stairs. We were still for a little bit longer, before Santana finally burst out into a small fit of giggles.

"That was close," she said as quietly as she could.

"If we get in trouble, I'm blaming you," I said, tickling my fingers at her sides.

"Stop, stop, shh, they'll hear," Santana said as she tried her best not to laugh. I grinned and tried to tickle her more until I heard the bathroom door close. We quickly snapped back into place as Rachel came down the stairs.

"I'm done with the bathroom now," she called. A second later, the downstairs bathroom door opened.

"Will you shut it? They're sleeping."

"Sorry," Rachel said. A second later, "They are super cute, huh?"

"...Yeah, they are," Quinn's voice softened. "I thought Britt went to bed after us."

"Guess not," Rachel said softly.

"I don't know if that would be comfortable or not."

"I think so. Brittany seems like the teddy bear type."

"Who knew Santana could be so... affectionate," Quinn laughed. Their voices were softer now, and I peeked one eye open as little as I could to confirm my suspicion that they weren't standing next to us anymore. I relaxed a little when I didn't see them, and even more when I heard light shuffling in the kitchen.

"I'm happy for her," Rachel said. "I've never seen Santana so enchanted."

"Enchanted?"

"Yes, well, she gets sort of starstruck, don't you think?" Rachel paused. I stayed still. I was sure they couldn't see us, even if we did move, but I wanted to be safe. I knew Santana was probably very embarrassed that her friends were talking about her. I hadn't noticed Santana seemed 'starstruck.' I wondered what they meant.

"Maybe, a little," Quinn said with a laugh.

"Don't eat that-"

"I made it, I can eat it. Not like you're eating any."

"You can't go around telling Santana what she should eat for breakfast if you're going to eat a _cupcake_ for breakfast."

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

I almost laughed as I hugged Santana tighter. Santana twisted a little and I felt a light kiss on my neck before her lips spread into what I discerned to be a smile.

"I'm happy for Brittany," Quinn stated.

There was a pause before Rachel spoke again. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Quinn scoffed. "I'm allowed."

"Happier than you are for Santana?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact."

"I don't really understand," Rachel replied. Neither did I. "Santana is your best friend."

"And Santana doesn't need me to be happy for her," Quinn said. "Not that I'm not. It's great and wonderful and all that. I just think Brittany deserves someone that treats her right."

"And you don't think Santana does...?"

"Oh, no, she does. Don't start with me again," Quinn laughed. "They're good for each other."

"What made you change your mind?" Rachel asked slowly. I strained my neck a bit to peek over the corner of the couch. Quinn was looking down at a cupcake in her hands and spinning it slowly at the tip of her fingers.

"She's not as different from me as I thought," Quinn said quietly. "Except she has a bigger heart than I do."

"You have a heart," Rachel said, taking the cupcake out of Quinn's hands. "Just a tough one."

"I know," Quinn said with weak smile as she looked up at Rachel.

"You're not saying what happened though," Rachel said as she set the cupcake back with the others. "Why do you suddenly empathize with her so much?"

"She's gone through a lot," Quinn said and shook her head. "I don't know what. I don't even think Santana knows the whole story. But you look her in the eye and ask her why she ran out on Santana, and you just know."

"Know what?"

"She's in love and it terrifies the crap out of her?" Quinn replied. I lowered my gaze to the coffee table. "I don't know, Rachel, and I guess I realized I don't need to know. I just know where she's coming from, and that's enough."

I stared hard at my cell phone on the coffee table. My neck suddenly felt hot, and it wasn't because of Santana. I wondered how transparent I was that Quinn could guess that from just looking at me. I felt my chest tighten as my hand slipped away from Santana's back. I knew she had been listening too, and I felt somehow like hearing someone else say it would make her scared. That I was scared. Maybe I wasn't always on the surface, but deep down, that much was true. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh through my nose.

I'd never wanted something so much that could be so easily taken away? But constantly dwelling on that would make things worse. Santana needed someone that wasn't scared of loving her. She needed that.

Santana shifted. For a second, I thought she was getting up or trying to move away from me. It was stupid, but the grip from my other hand tightened on her waist. She kissed my neck and twisted so that she wasn't lying directly on top of me. Her arm wrapped over me and pulled me closer.

"...I love you," she whispered softly. I tore my eyes away from my phone and looked up at her. She smiled and brought her forehead to mine. She'd only said those three simple words, but it was more than that. It was an "I love you too, you're more than enough for me." It was everything sweet and kind about her. And it was so damn hard _not_ to smile.

"I love you too," I whispered and kissed her. She giggled quietly, but not quietly enough. She sniffled to cover it up, and sat up, feigning grogginess as she lifted her hand up to muss up her hair.

"Mm, er, what time is it?" she grumbled. She wrinkled her nose as she looked over the armrest of the couch.

"Huh?" I gasped, sitting up a bit as well. I caught her lip curl slightly. We were good at acting.

"Oh, you two are awake," Quinn said, looking quickly to Rachel.

"Where's... Jeremy?" I asked, looking around the room. Santana smiled weakly at me and brought her hand down to my cheek for a second. She let it fall past my face and she tugged gently on the pillow beneath my head.

"Right here, sweetie," she muttered, planting a kiss on my forehead.

"I can't believe you two fell asleep on the couch," Rachel laughed.

"I can't believe how you wake up this fucking early every morning," Santana complained as she reached for my phone to check the time.

"Not our fault you work late," Quinn shrugged. "You two hungry?"

"Are you cooking?" I asked as I sat up.

"Might as well," Quinn laughed. I caught her glance at one of the cupcakes. I scrambled up out from beneath the covers to head to the kitchen, but Santana caught my hand. I thought she wanted help up, but she was trying not to laugh again. She stood up behind me and let go of my hand, bringing hers to my waist as she leaned in to peck my cheek.

"You have a little duck tail," she muttered, and I felt her tuck the drawstrings into the back of my pants. I guess she'd tugged them on backwards and wanted to hide the evidence they had ever been off in the first place. I pulled my shirt down a bit and grinned sheepishly at her. She smacked her palm gently to my butt before she joined Quinn at the stove.

"Outta the way, Quinn, you make terrible omelets," Santana said loudly.

"At least I make them," Quinn growled.

"Well, I'm here to show you how it's done," Santana replied smugly. I bowed my head and stifled a laugh as I caught Rachel's smirk. Breakfast was always funny with Santana, mostly because everyone made a big spectacle about her even being awake.

* * *

><p>"I know you don't want to run, Santana, but I know you aren't that slow," I said, glancing over my shoulder and squinting into the afternoon sun.<p>

"I'm tired," she whined.

"We haven't been running that long," I called back. "We're not even four blocks from the apartment."

"It's cold."

"Then run faster," I laughed. "Really, why are you lagging behind?"

"I'm not," Santana muttered.

"You are, what are you doing?" I stopped abruptly, causing Santana to practically crash into me.

"Ow, why'd you stop?" Santana said, gripping me tightly for support. I grinned and looked back at her.

"Were you staring at my butt?"

"I did no such thing," Santana scoffed, standing up straight and rolling her eyes.

"You were staring at my butt," I accused as she shook her head.

"I wasn't," Santana said and adjusted her ponytail. "I was just a little out of breath. Come on, we have like a million blocks to go." She smacked her palm against my shoulder and started to jog forward.

"Well, now I'm looking at your butt," I said as I tilted my head to the side.

"Ass," she said. She looked back at me and wrinkled her nose. I ran forward and tapped her butt lightly with my hand.

"Don't mind if I do," I grinned.

"Stop it, we're running," she giggled, knocking her elbow into me as I tried to adjust my pace to match hers.

"You started it," I said, looking forward.

"I did not!"

"Why wouldn't you be staring at my butt?" I asked, pretending to be offended as I looked down at her. "Is it not cute? Is something wrong with it?"

"Your ass is very cute," Santana said. "It's a nice view."

"So you _were_ staring at it," I laughed.

"Brittany! I wasn't!" She tried to smack me again, but I darted just out of reach.

"You're gonna have to catch me if you want your hands on this tush," I said and winked.

"I wasn't- Damn it, Brittany!"

I let her chase me for a while until she was _actually_ slowing down from being out of breath. We kept running until we were both too tired to keep going, and by then the sun was starting to set. She groaned and moaned the whole way home. Initially, she had been set on catching the bus or even taking the subway, but after we realized neither of us had our wallets, she fell into me and pretended to cry. Her cries turned to laughter when I pulled her into a hug and twirled her around several times. Even though I managed to get her spirits up, I still ended up having to carry her the last few blocks. I was sure she was pretending, but I absolutely did not mind having her arms wrapped around me and giggling in my ear.

"Stop, let me down, I'm fine," Santana muttered.

"You sure?" I asked, glancing back at her.

"Yeah... you didn't have to piggyback me home."

"And let my girl suffer the last two blocks? Not a chance," I said as I let her down. She wobbled as she found her balance, keeping her arms latched to me all the while.

"You're too good to me," Santana sighed, leaning her back into me as I ushered her out of the elevator.

"You say that after I made you run over forever," I said skeptically, folding my arms over her stomach as we shuffled towards our apartment. "Come on, get inside."

Santana immediately flopped onto the couch as I set my key on the rack beside the door. I hurried into the kitchen to get us both some water.

"How can you move so quickly?" she complained. "I feel like I'm dying."

"If you feel this bad already, you're gonna feel miserable tomorrow."

"Don't say that," Santana groaned. "I don't think I can handle this. I give up. Don't make me do this."

"You wanted to get better at dancing," I said, leaning down to kiss her forehead and handing her a glass of water. She pouted up at me, forcing me to smile. She was upside down from my perspective, and somehow that made her puffing her lower lip out a million times cuter.

"I wanted to learn to dance, not run a marathon," she said quietly.

"You can't give up," I laughed and sat down next to her. She barely moved to give me space. "You used to have to do this sort of thing for cheerleading, right? And glee? You'll get it."

"Mm," she hummed as she drank from her glass. "Yeah, but it was never this hard."

"It'll get easier," I said, lifting my hand to brush the few strands of hair that fell into her face. "How about this. Short term goals. I want you to have your song by this weekend, okay? In the meantime, I don't think we're doing any dancing today or tomorrow."

"No more running?"

"Not today," I said as I leaned forward to kiss her lips. "Or tomorrow."

"Good," she sighed softly. "I could use a few days off."

"You could use a shower," I teased.

"Are you trying to say something?" Santana asked, arching her brow at me.

"Yes," I laughed, resting my hands on her knees. "The day before yesterday we danced your pants off, figuratively, because I made you wait until we came home." I wiggled my eyebrows as she rolled her eyes. It didn't hide her smile though. "There's a reason you're so sore right now."

"Wanky," she grinned. "So you wanna join me?"

"Might as well," I wiggled my nose to hers. "Maybe even a massage, hm?"

"Best girlfriend ever," she said, pecking my lips. "Even if you insinuated I smell bad."

"I would never," I grinned.

* * *

><p>"Ooh..." Santana twisted her head to bury it in her arm before letting out another loud, breathy moan. "God, Brittany..."<p>

I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of my throat. Santana was laying down on her stomach in bed. Her hair was damp from the shower, and a few strands were splayed out over her exposed back. I applied a little more pressure in my palms as I dragged my thumbs along her shoulder blades. She groaned again, so I leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss at the base of her neck.

"I think you're enjoying this too much," I murmured.

"Shut up," she laughed.

"No, I think Quinn and Rachel are gonna get the wrong idea of what we're doing," I giggled.

"They already think that any time the door is closed that we're up to _suh...something_..." Santana's voice cut out for a moment as I dragged my hands down to the small of her back and squeezed lightly. "They're not even home, though..."

"They aren't?" I looked up to the clock.

"Yeah, Quinn's got work till 9 on Thursdays, Britt," she muttered. "And Rachel is like... singing or something. She usually hangs with Kurt afterwards."

"I didn't know you actually knew their schedules."

"I've lived with them long enough," Santana sighed, arching her back a little when I moved my hands upwards again.

"I'll learn it eventually then," I laughed. I let my hands rest flatly against her back before I moved from sitting on her butt to laying down on top of her, kissing her neck up to her cheek and sighing softly near her ear. "Feeling better?"

"Much," Santana replied. Her hand fumbled around for mine, and I giggled as I kept it just out of her reach. I only let her catch it after she let out a small whine. She pulled it close to her and sighed contentedly as she snuggled her face against Jeremy, who was lying squashed beneath her. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," I replied softly. I lifted a little from her to press and hold my lips to her shoulder.

"Mm," she hummed again and squeezed my hand. The fact that we were home alone and she was already laying half naked beneath me made it almost instinctual to trail kisses over her shoulder blade and down to the dip of her spine. I pulled my hand out of hers to drag it down her side, scratching my nails lightly over her smooth skin. Her body contracted, and she giggled as she buried her face into Jeremy.

"Britt," she laughed.

"Mm?" I lifted my face up and rested my chin against her back as I smiled.

"Come here," she said softly, waving her hand and patting the spot next to her. I sat up and shuffled to her side as she twisted, pulling me close so that our noses were almost touching. And then they were, just a second before she let her lips connect briefly with mine. Something was slow and perfect about the way she did it, though. She held me close, staring at me with her brilliantly beautiful eyes until we both started to giggle. I didn't know what was funny, but her smile and laugh was infectious. It happened sort of backwards, that we were laughing first before she started playfully tickling me. I tickled back, but it didn't take us long to get tangled in the sheets and in each other.

It was when we almost fell off the bed that we had to stop and take a breather. She sat up and caught my hand, pulling me back up onto the bed before wrapping us up in the blanket. She nestled into me and rested her head against my chest. I exhaled loudly to force a strand of hair out of my face as I wrapped my arm around her. Resting was just as good as the kissing and tickling—just having all this time today to be close to her was. I hadn't missed her as much yesterday because I got to spend time with our friends, but I definitely preferred my time with Santana.

"Hey," she whispered after a while. I tried my best to look down at her. She was picking lightly at my shirt with a soft smile on her face. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," I said, smiling.

"Earlier, when Quinn said you were scared," Santana spoke quietly. "She was right, right?"

I felt my heart sink immediately. My hand that had been playfully twirling a strand of her hair stilled, and my breath caught in my throat.

"Yes," I exhaled. "But I do love you, please don't-"

"I know," she said with a small laugh. It sounded forced. "I just want to know if it's because you're scared of _me_ or if it's something else."

"Santana, no! How could I ever be scared of you?" I said quietly. My voice sounded funny.

"Is it because of people like Madison, then?" Santana lifted her head off my chest and looked up at me. I stared at her for a second then averted my gaze. "I know you've got to be nervous about your class tomorrow. And I know we haven't really come up with a plan yet. I'm going to come up to Juilliard as soon as I get done with my meeting with my professor. Just-"

"Santana, I know. Keep out of their way and don't let myself be alone with them," I sighed. "I don't... really want to talk about them."

Santana was silent, and I concentrated hard on Jeremy now that we were lying next to him instead of on top of him.

"Okay," she said softly. "But Britt, I don't want to sit here and pretend like you're okay if you're not."

"I'm _fine_," I replied, looking down for a moment before meeting her gaze. "I am, really. I like just lying here with you, and spending time with you."

"Me too," she said, leaning forward and kissing my cheek. "But I'd like to know more, if that's okay with you."

"Know more about what?"

"You," Santana said simply. I loved that about Santana. She could have added something to insinuate that that was the obvious response. A 'duh' or a 'stupid', but she didn't. She just found my hand and linked her pinkie in mine, and it was more reassuring than I expected it to be. Santana didn't see me as dumb. She took opportunities when I felt like I didn't know what I was doing and made them flirty instead of condescending. It was 'oh, you _know_' and a nudge in the right direction instead of sneering 'why don't you know?' Because she knew when I asked, it was because I was afraid to assume I knew the answer and I wasn't confident that it was right. Not that I was oblivious; I just lacked confidence.

"What do you want to know?" I asked, because now I didn't know. I didn't know what to tell her, or what sort of things she was curious about. My birthday? My favorite t-shirt or the places I'd traveled? Or more intimate things, like the things I wanted to know about Santana. What was she like when she was little? Where did the little scar on her left shoulder come from? How old was she when she started singing? How did she decide[d] that that was what she wanted to do? Why was her skin always so soft? Did she like tomatoes?

"-Brittany?"

"Hm?" My eyes fluttered a bit more open as I looked back at her.

"You weren't listening."

The smile that had formed on my lips as I was thinking of questions to ask her disappeared. I hadn't meant to ignore her. I always wanted to listen to her. I liked everything she had to say.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. What did you say?" Maybe she asked me if I liked tomatoes.

"It's okay," she laughed, and squeezed my pinkie. "Just tell me more about you."

"Um..." I paused and looked up. Don't say tomatoes, that's stupid. "I had a dumpling eating contest with Mike." That was stupider.

"When?" Santana laughed.

"Yesterday," I said, and smiled. At least she didn't think it was stupid. "We tied."

"Mike is like Takeru Kobayashi, except not Japanese," Santana said.

"Who?"

"That guy that eats all those hot dogs?" Santana said, sitting up. I tilted my head as I looked at her, my brow furrowing slightly. "Nevermind, it just means Mike likes to eat. And I'm impressed."

"You know my favorite thing to eat?"

"Me?"

"Santana!" I almost yelled, slipping my pinkie out of hers to slap her hand. She laughed loudly and caught my hand again. "No. I mean, _yes_, but I was going to say your cooking. Which is good, because you have to out cook Mike."

"Excuse you? Did you volunteer me for something behind my back?"

"...Yes," I said apprehensively. "But-I-have-absolute-faith-in-you-as-your-girlfriend-that-you-can-kick-Mike-Chang's-butt?"

Santana frowned at me for half a second longer before her lips cracked into a grin.

"Alright, I can deal with that," she said and shook her head. "But when I wanted you to tell me more about you, I meant _you_, babe. I wanna know things about you that nobody else does." She lifted my hand and bounced it on the blanket. "I know your favorite tv show, but I don't even know your sister's name."

"Allie," I said. "Well, Allison, but she hates that."

"Allie? That's cute. How old is she?"

"Sixteen...?" I looked up at the ceiling. She was five years younger than me, right? That made her... yeah, sixteen. "She's awesome. I think she's gonna be like my dad and do some super technical math stuff."

"Your dad is a math person?"

"He's an accountant," I nodded. "But I think Allie will be one of those people that build robots or something."

"So like a mathematical engineer?"

"Sure," I shrugged. Did mathematical engineers make robots? Allie didn't really make robots either though.

"What does your mom do?"

"She's a zoologist."

"That explains so much," Santana laughed.

"Why?" I frowned.

"Well, you know a lot about animals. And you're kind and sweet," Santana replied. "Lord Tubbington is a lucky cat."

"My mom disagrees," I shook my head. "She said cats don't need three meals a day, but he always looks so hungry. I give him healthy treats, though. Shouldn't that balance it out?"

"Cats are smaller than people," Santana said. "They don't need three meals a day."

"Whatever, he's happy," I shrugged. Santana beamed at me and nuzzled her nose against my cheek.

"True," she said softly. "So, what else?" She paused and pulled me closer. "What was your first crush like?"

"My first crush?" I wrinkled my nose as I smirked at her. That was a long time ago. A long long time ago. "I can barely remember what he looked like. I was like nine."

"Tell me what you remember?"

"I don't remember a lot," I shrugged. "His name was like... Aaron? Andrew? Arthur? I don't know. I think it was Arthur. Yeah. 'Cause of that show?"

"I remember that show," Santana laughed. "Did you call him that?"

"He didn't like it. That I called him that," I said.

"How did you know him?"

"Well, I was in dance classes." I shrugged my shoulders, and she nodded, as if it were obvious. I mean, it was obvious, I did dance when I was younger. "Most of the people in my dance class were also at my school, so I didn't have a lot of friends through that."

"Because you were picked on?" Santana asked quietly.

"Yeah... I guess I was always kind of weird," I sighed.

"You're not weird."

"I am weird."

"I like weird," Santana squeezed my hand and kissed the tip of my nose. I wrinkled it slightly. "Go on."

"Anyway, so one day he joined my dance class. I didn't know him from school, and he didn't know me. So I guess he didn't think I was as weird as everyone else did."

"Why's that?"

"Well, he was the only boy," I replied. "He got picked on too."

"Oh."

"He hated it," I laughed.

"Being picked on?"

"Oh, yeah, but not just that," I shook my head. "The first day he showed up, he put up such a fight. He was arguing with his mom and made a big scene about having to wear a leotard."

"I can see that," Santana laughed. "But you became friends?"

"Yeah." I furrowed my brow as I nodded. "I don't really remember any friends before that. Not any that I hung out with. I don't know if practicing dancing counts as hanging out though."

"I think in this case it does," Santana nodded. "So you liked him?"

"He was nice to me," I smiled. "Even after I told him he looked like Arthur. He even had the same kind of glasses."

"Arthur was... cool. Kind of," Santana said, averting her gaze. "Did you tell him you liked him?"

"No," I shrugged. "One day, he just stopped coming to class."

"What?"

"Yeah. I was supposed to be his partner for the dance recital, but they had to re-choreograph the part because he quit right after auditions." I fell silent. I could barely remember what he looked like, and I wasn't even sure of his name. But I remembered how sad I was when he quit. There hadn't been any explanation, but I always thought it was because I was his dance partner. He probably didn't want to dance with me.

"...Well, I'm sure he had a good reason," Santana said, squeezing my hand tight. "And if he didn't, he's a jerk and wasn't worth it. If I'd been there, I would have been ecstatic to dance with you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Santana nodded. "Even if I had to dance the boys' part."

"I would have danced it for you."

"Yeah? And they say chivalry is dead," Santana laughed.

"Well, I _am_ a woman," I grinned.

"True, maybe it is dead." She twisted a bit and rested against me, letting go of my hand to reach for Jeremy. "So tell me. Where does Jeremy come from in all of this? Have you had him forever?"

"No," I shook my head at her and smiled. "Only a few years."

"Really?"

"Yeah." I grinned and took him from her. "Jeremy was a present."

"Let me guess," Santana said, fluffing his mane. "Your sister gave him to you for your birthday."

"Nope. I did give her my zebra, though," I replied, smiling brightly.

"Pillow pet brother?" Santana gasped. "There's another?!"

"No," I laughed. "They're not brothers. He's a zebra!"

"Who says they can't be brothers?"

"No one, but he's not even a pillow pet!"

"Okay, so where did Jeremy come from then?"

I sat up a bit, pulling Jeremy fully into my lap as I bounced him gently up and down. I raised him to my lips and kissed his muzzle, closing an eye as his soft unicorn horn poked at the bridge of my nose.

"Jeremy was a present from my favorite high school teacher," I said softly.

"They gave you a pillow pet?"

"Yeah," I said, elbowing her as I frowned. "Don't judge."

"I'm not, I'm not," Santana said, raising her hand defensively. "Why were they your favorite?"

"I wouldn't have graduated if it weren't for her," I almost whispered. Santana knew I had trouble with school, but I was never proud of the fact that I had almost not graduated. To be sitting here in the position I was, with my scholarship and even at a dance school in the first place, I never felt more humbled towards anyone. "She even helped me with my application for Juilliard. I don't think I can ever thank Ms. Holliday enough."

"Ms. who?"

Santana jerked upright. I was a bit startled by her reaction and clutched Jeremy a little tighter to my body. I followed her gaze down to his fluffy face before slowly looking back up. She looked startled, but I wasn't sure why she was staring so intently at Jeremy.

"Ms. Holliday," I repeated. "My History and English teacher. Why?"

Santana's brow furrowed, and her mouth parted slightly. I wasn't sure if she was frowning or still just surprised. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she extended her hand and gently touched her fingertips to Jeremy's purple fuzz.

"Ms. Holliday... as in Holly Holliday?" she asked cautiously. She kept her gaze locked on Jeremy, and I peered down at her.

"You know her?"

"She used to teach at McKinley," Santana muttered. "She... she was a sub, I mean, she subbed glee club once. That's just so strange."

"That we had the same teacher?" I breathed. "A little."

"Yeah," Santana replied. "Spooky."

"You think so?"

"No, maybe not," Santana said, biting back a smile. "Just... it's dumb. I mean... no, it's _corny_, sorry."

"What is?"

"You believe in fate?"

"I believe in soul mates," I replied, leaning down to press my forehead to hers.

"A pillow pet is kind of an unusual instrument of fate though," she trailed off. "Tell me more about high school.

"High school was awful," I replied.

"I think it kind of sucked for everyone." Santana nudged me. "Tell me?"

"I can tell you about how Ms. Holliday helped me graduate?"

"That sounds like a great bedtime story."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Winter 2011<em>**

_"Three years, Brittany," my dad sighed loudly as he set down the piece of paper in his hands. I'd just walked into the living room after bringing all my stuff in from my car. _

_"Honey, she just got home," my mom said. "Leave it be, we'll talk about it tomorrow."_

_"It's always tomorrow," my dad said, a little louder. "Sit down."_

_I sucked in on my lower lip as I took a cautious step forward and settled down on the couch opposite the recliner where my dad sat. He lifted the remote and turned off the television as he sat forward. He rubbed a long, slender hand over his face. He looked exhausted, but I couldn't remember the last time he _didn't_ look exhausted._

_"Do you know how hard it is, Brittany?" He spoke quietly, but everything else in the room was so silent, I think I would have heard a pin drop when he stopped to take a breath. "To try so hard to give you the things you want. With dance classes and gymnastics. To put you in a school where you get more of that and so much help provided to you, and you don't take advantage of those resources?"_

_"Dad, I-"_

_"No." His voice was sharp and made me quiet immediately. "Do you know how much tuition is each year? Each semester? We don't have the sort of money, Brittany, for you to just go around and waste it."_

_"I'm not wasting it, Dad, I know. I try so hard-"_

_"By what? Partying with your friends?" My dad crinkled the paper in his hands and tossed the balled up mess to the floor. I stared hard down at it as my brow furrowed. I didn't know he knew about that._

_"I get a phone call from your headmaster saying you and some of the other girls from your dance classes were caught off campus," my dad growled. I glanced up at my mom, but she avoided my gaze, so I looked back to the ground. _

_"I don't care if you have fun or break the rules," my dad sighed. "I want you to be happy, Brittany, but you really think life will be easy if you don't graduate?"_

_"I want to graduate! I'm going to-"_

_"Not unless you pull up these grades, Brittany!" he shouted, thrusting his index finger towards the crumpled paper. My mom moved forward and placed her hand on his, but he tore it away and then shook his head. "I know... I know you pulled up your grades in dance and science. You're even doing well in math. But you still need English and History, Brittany. Those are core classes. I don't care if you get an A in dance!"_

_"I got an A?" My eyes widened. I had done an extra credit assignment to make up for the written exam, but I didn't know it would have pushed my grade up to an A._

_"If you get another F in English or History and you don't graduate, Brittany," he ignored me. "Every semester, it's like this. Why does it always have to be like this? Why don't you learn anything?"_

_"Dad, I have a tutor, they're just not... the classes are really hard, Dad-"_

_"I know you have a tutor," my dad spat. "I pay for the tutor. I pay for everything Brittany. And you know what I don't like paying for? For you to lie."_

_I looked up and caught his gaze. He was really upset._

_"I don't like paying for a tutor you don't bother to see," he growled. "You haven't showed up once to a tutoring session since October."_

_"Dad, you don't understand-"_

_"Then make me understand, Brittany! Explain to me why we uprooted our family, forced your mom and I to transfer jobs, sell our house?" He sat back and sighed again as he shook his head towards the ground. "Tell me why your sister can get straight A's and you can't even meet the class average? She's even taking honors classes. Why can't you... why can't you just be _normal_?" _

_I inhaled sharply. My face started to scrunch up and I knew I had tears threatening to fall down from my face. I tried to speak, but words didn't form. For years, my parents would assure me that it was okay. That it wasn't that I wasn't as smart as my sister, it was just that I learned differently. When I was younger, my mom had me go through all these tests and talk to all these people. She said there wasn't anything wrong with me. That I actually had a decent IQ and that it was the public school system in Lima that was why I wasn't doing well in school. But here I was, in my senior year at a new school, and nothing had changed. I had improved in over half my classes. All my electives. But I still only barely managed to pass each grade because of English and History. It was hard - English didn't build off of what you learned the previous semester like Math. And History was all this new content with dates and numbers and memorization._

_The semester had started off better. I had the same teacher for both classes. She was really nice and really funny. It was easy to pay attention in her classes, but it didn't always make the content easier. So I started going to a tutor, but by the time the second half of the semester rolled around, my tutor got fed up with me. She was one of my classmates, she even lived on the same floor as I did, but I think she started a rumor about me after the Halloween party. My reputation at school wasn't exactly pristine, but I just didn't see why it was so wrong to like kissing people. _

_"Maybe we should just withdraw you from the school," my dad sighed. "We could... I don't know. Home school you. Would that help? Is that what you want?"_

_"Dad..."_

_"Just tell me, Brittany. What am I supposed to do?" He looked exasperated. Like he was at the end of a very tight rope. His brow was furrowed and I could tell he was trying really hard not to yell. His face was a little red, too. "At this point, I just want you to graduate. I've given up hoping you'll go to college."_

_"I want to go to college," I murmured. I really did. Before we left for the semester, we'd gotten together with our homeroom classes. Mine had been switched again, but I was glad that my English/History teacher had taken over the job. She had us all talk about what we wanted to do, and all I wanted to do was dance. She told me that I could apply to dance schools. I didn't know they had those after high school._

_"Dad, I wanna be a dancer, okay? I'm going to graduate, and I'm going to apply for the School of Dance. Ohio State, maybe even Juilliard-"_

_"How are you going to afford going there, Brittany? Juilliard? Even Ohio State; we can't afford that tuition. Your sister already has an academic scholarship, and she's not even in high school!" My dad rolled his neck as he tried to keep his cool. "My only expectation is that you get your high school diploma. I've let you do what you want. I let you go to dance competitions. You have your own car - it might not be new or fancy, but you have your own car. You don't pay for insurance or your phone. I don't even make you get a job. But you want all these things, like a new computer or video cameras for programs you don't even know how to use. I'm tired of it, Brittany. I'm just so tired." _

_Again, I had trouble speaking. I had trouble breathing. Tears had started falling ever since I didn't know when. I didn't care about things like that. Like my car or my computer. I could live without those things. My dad was right, I barely knew how to use my computer. But I could figure out what he was saying, or rather, trying not to say. My dad was so disappointed in me, and that was the one thing I really did care about._

_"Dad, I-"_

_"Just go." He waved his hand. "I don't even think punishing you would help. Just go to bed."_

_He rose from his seat and lifted his hand when my mother tried to stop him. I stared at the hallway long after he disappeared and just waited. Waited for my mother to yell at me too, or even to comfort me. She stayed for a moment and then got up and followed him out._

* * *

><p><em>I could feel hot, wet tears on my cheeks as I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel of my car. I didn't know how much time had passed since I had parked outside my school, or when it started snowing. I had the radio turned all the way up, but it wasn't helping drown out my thoughts. I didn't even know why I drove all the way back to school. I guess maybe it was because I wanted to see if I could get into the school's dance studio, but all the doors were locked.<em>

_I peeled my face off the steering wheel and leaned back in my seat, lifting my hand to rub the surely red spot on my forehead. A sniffle stifled the sob that escaped my lips. I was so excited for the end of the semester and to be home to see my family. To hang out with my sister and go Christmas shopping with my mom. But grades had been sent out earlier than I expected, among other things._

_Why was I so stupid? I'd known that my grades were slipping after I stopped going to see my tutor. But I never thought my dad would get this mad. He was always the one to reassure me when I wasn't doing well. My mom was always supportive too, but she would normally be the one to lecture me. After my parents had left me alone, I just couldn't sit by myself in my room. All I wanted to do was come home. The rumors about me spreading around the school weren't any worse than they usually were, but I was just so tired. I really needed the break, but now my dad thought I was just as stupid as everyone else did._

_After a while, I stopped shaking and I managed to settle down a bit. I looked to my radio and stared at it a while. That song, _Water and Bridges_, was playing loudly. A little too loud, I realized and I turned the knob to my stereo down so it would stop making that scratchy white noise sound. Maybe I shouldn't have driven all the way to my school. I felt terrible and now I wasn't sure I could drive back home safely. The snow had started to build up and I hadn't had my license long enough to be able to drive in it. What if the roads were icy? Ugh, I really made bad decisions a lot. No wonder everyone thought I was stupid._

_There was a tapping sound to my left and I looked up. I nearly jumped when I saw someone standing outside of my car. The window was foggy because of the temperature difference between the inside of my car and the outside, so I rubbed my hand against the glass. A familiar face ducked down and smiled at me, waving gently from beneath an umbrella._

_"Ms. Holliday!" I said as soon as I opened the door to my car. I got stuck from my seatbelt and quickly undid it as she opened the door a little wider._

_"Hey, sweet cheeks," Ms. Holliday said as I scrambled out of my car. She peered behind me and grinned. "I thought maybe you had someone with you, since the windows were all fogged up." She winked._

_"Ms. Holliday..." I couldn't help but smile. I quickly wiped my face with a swipe of my hand as she held up her umbrella over the both of us. "What are you doing at the school so late?"_

_"I'm the teacher, shouldn't I be asking you that?" she laughed. "You okay, honey bee?"_

_My smile widened a little at the nickname. Ms. Holliday called me that when I had tried to switch my tie for my uniform to change things up a bit. Instead of making me change it back, she just reminded me after class that the other instructors might not take so kindly to it. _

_"I just had a fight with my dad," I shrugged and looked away. "I didn't really want to be home right now."_

_"A fight, huh?" Ms. Holliday looked passed the parking lot to the school building. "I think the guard locked the door after me, but if you want, I can take you to get some cocoa and we can talk about it?"_

_"That's okay, really," I nodded. "I should go home-"_

_"How far is home? 'Cause not gonna lie, honey bee, you're already not the best driver," Ms. Holliday said as she looked down at my car. There were several dents along the sides and the bumper was smashed in on the one side. I flushed and looked down. "I can take you home afterwards, if you don't mind coming back to pick up your car once the roads are clear."_

_"Y-yeah, okay," I nodded. "Lemme just get my bag."_

_I opened the door and turned off my car before grabbing my purse and my cell phone. Ms. Holliday lead me through the snow over to her car. It was a nice blue one, and the seats inside were heated. She turned up the heat so it was blasting in our faces. Before long, it was nice and toasty._

_"So," Ms. Holliday said after a long bit of silence. "What kind of fight with your dad are we talking?"_

_"Oh," I looked down. "I guess they sent out grades early."_

_"Yikes," Ms. Holliday said. "Yeah, I can see why he'd be upset."_

_My cheeks flushed. Ms. Holliday was my English and History teacher; she would know exactly why my dad was upset, because I was failing both her classes._

_"What's the deal with that, anyway? You were doing great at the beginning of the semester," she said as she glanced at me from the steering wheel. "When I asked if you needed extra help, you said you had a tutor."_

_"I... stopped going." I shrugged and looked away. _

_"Why? _

_"I didn't like my tutor," I said._

_"And I don't like half the teachers here, but it doesn't mean I stop coming to work," Ms. Holliday said nonchalantly. "You didn't get a new tutor? Why did you stop going, really?"_

_"She was... one of the girls that started that rumor about me," I said softly._

_"The one about the Halloween party?" Ms. Holliday rose her brow._

_"You know about that?" I gasped._

_"Honey, half the teachers at this school are twice my age and the other half are duller than some of the history books I have to teach from." Ms. Holliday waved her hand. "It's a lot more fun to keep an ear out for juicy gossip. And with a school full of teenage girls, there's a lot of gossip. But that one was buzzing around for weeks."_

_"Oh my god," I murmured as I buried my face in my hands. It was one thing when my classmates talked about stuff, but it was whole other story if my teachers knew about that. _

_"Do you want to talk about it?" Ms. Holliday asked. _

_"Not really," I sighed. "No offense, Ms. Holliday, but it's already weird enough you know about it."_

_"If it's any consolation, I know how things can get stretched from the truth," she said. "But if you want me to leave it alone, I will. Let's get back to your grades, huh? You know if you needed the extra credit or study help, I have office hours, right?" _

_"I... I didn't know that," I said, peeling my hands away from my face as I looked up at her. _

_"I said it the first day of class," Ms. Holliday laughed. "Oh, right. You weren't there-"_

_"-I was at the nurse's office," I murmured._

_"Right, you gave me the note the next day with this very bewildered face," Ms. Holliday said. "'You're not Ms. Fitzherbert, are you?' I sure hope not, she was old as a dinosaur."_

_"Haha," I laughed and nodded. "Yeah, I remember."_

_"You know, if you'd handed in that paper on Hamlet, you probably could have passed English this semester," Ms. Holliday said as she pulled her car into the parking lot of the shopping center near my house. "Why didn't you turn it in?"_

_"...It got um..." I stared at the ground. "It got covered in coffee."_

_"What?" She arched her brow. "Why didn't you tell me?"_

_"None of my other teachers accept excuses," I said as I looked back up at her. "The policies at Ravenswood are really strict about that sort of stuff."_

_"Accidents happen," Ms. Holliday replied. "How did it get covered in coffee?"_

_"The same way the rest of my bag got covered in coffee," I said as I shrugged._

_"And how did that happen?"_

_"Someone put a cup of coffee inside of it," I said, barely above a whisper. _

_"Why would anyone do that?" Ms. Holliday snapped her head back. _

_"If I knew why, maybe it wouldn't happen," I murmured. Ms. Holliday shook her head and let out a sigh._

_"The way kids come up with bullying these days," she muttered. "First slushies, now coffee bombs..." _

_"What?"_

_"Nothing. Brittany, I want you to email me that paper, okay? I'll talk to the headmaster about seeing if I can do a re-evaluation of your grade." Ms. Holliday shifted her car into park and nodded for me to get out of the car. I stared at her for a moment as my brow furrowed._

_"R-really?"_

_"Of course," she said with a nod. "If you wrote the paper, you deserve a grade for it. I can't help your History grade-"_

_"-I promise to study harder," I nodded. "I'm not looking for special treatment, I swear."_

_"But you know you were wavering right at the edge with that one, right?" Ms. Holliday said. "Was there a reason you didn't do the extra credit assignment?"_

_"That was the one on the Constitution, right?" I asked. "I actually did do the research, but Ms. Holliday... You're super cool and all for dressing up and re-enacting characters from history and stuff..."_

_"Then why didn't you do the class presentation?" She held the door to the cafe open for me, and I stepped in backwards out of the snow. I kicked my foot on the ground as she followed me in. "You're a dancer, right? Don't you like performance? You can't possibly have stage fright."_

_"Because I don't like talking about violence," I shrugged. "And any time I do a report in class, people make fun of me. Any time I say anything wrong, people tease me. Or misconstrue what I say."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Say I went up to the front of class," I said as I stepped into line. "And went on to discuss the 8th amendment. How excessive bail shouldn't be required and that you can't impose excessive fines. The moment I get to the discussion about cruel and unusual punishment, someone will tell someone else I said that, and five minutes later... Someone else will be talking in the hallways about how they heard that so-and-so say that I like bondage. Or something."_

_Ms. Holliday stared at me for a moment. I looked away and up at the menu. It felt weird to admit to a teacher that people talked about my sex life in the hallways. That most of the rumors people spread about me were either about how I was stupid or easy. It wasn't necessarily that they were untrue. I didn't get good grades, I messed up a lot, and I was also a little... promiscuous. But why was being sexually indiscriminate a bad thing? _

_"Hot cocoa, please," I said to the man behind the counter. He asked if my order was separate or together and nodded at Ms. Holliday._

_"Oh, no, I'm paying." she nodded. _

_"That's okay-"_

_"No, it's okay," Ms. Holliday said. "It's fine. You shouldn't have to pay for cheer-up hot chocolate."_

_I looked down as she ordered herself a cup and nodded for me to follow her to a seat._

_"So," she said as she sat down. "Tell me more about the 8th amendment."_

_"Oh gosh, I don't know," I stared up at the ceiling. "It's hard to remember. That was before the exam."_

_"That part was on the exam," Ms. Holliday said. "You got that question right. You know it. Tell me, why is it important?"_

_"Well, it's what makes torture illegal in the US," I said. "That thieves don't get their hands cut off for stealing and stuff."_

_"Okay then," she nodded and gave me a small smile. "And why was that important to add in the Bill of Rights?"_

_"Well, it was- Oh, thank you," I started as the waiter came and set down our cocoa. I smiled politely and he winked at me. I lowered my gaze and blushed._

_"Girl, I think he likes you," Ms. Holliday laughed as she tapped my arm playfully. _

_"S-stop," I giggled. "Anyway, it was one of the reasons for the revolution. Lots of colonists thought the British government was unreasonable. When they wrote the Bill of Rights, they wanted to make sure that it all got changed and we weren't being oppressed by our own government system. The 8th amendment keeps us from being thrown in and kept in jail for no reason, and assures that citizens are judged on set conditions without personal arguments or feelings getting in the way."_

_"You remembered all of that?" Ms. Holliday sat back and rose her brow at me, looking rather impressed. I shrugged as I took a sip of my cocoa._

_"I told you, I did the research, I just didn't want to go up in front of class," I said softly. _

_"What exactly did your dad yell at you about?"_

_"My report card," I said. "Because I was failing English and History."_

_"...Oh dear," Ms. Holliday sighed. "Are you sure that that's what it was? Because report cards don't get sent out until next week, honey bee. Final grades were submitted today."_

_"What?" I looked up from my cocoa._

_"Before I started working here, I wasn't the best teacher, Brittany." Ms. Holliday bit her lip. "I got one of my students in a lot of trouble because I didn't look out for their well-being and tried to help them inappropriately. When I came to Ravenswood, I wanted to turn over a new leaf and make up for the trouble I'd caused, so when talking to you about your tutoring didn't help, I pulled up your grades and had them sent home. It was a progress report from a few weeks ago." _

_"What?" I repeated. _

_"You did fail. English and History," Ms. Holliday said softly. "But... Brittany, if you send me that paper, I'll tell the headmaster I made a mistake in the grades and I need to take another look over them before final reports are sent out."_

_"But Ms. Holliday, I still didn't pass History-"_

_"Ms. Pierce," she said as she lifted her cocoa to her lips. "I do believe you just completed the extra credit assignment. And seeing as it's not yet tomorrow, it's still the last day of the semester."_

_"R-really?"_

_"I don't see why not." She grinned and set her cocoa down after taking a sip. "You did all the work and it wasn't your fault for not submitting the paper." _

_"But the policies for late work-"_

_"I'm not going to tell anyone if you won't," Ms. Holliday said with a light shrug. "I'm not making this a special exception without reason, and I don't want you to think that you can get away with this all the time, but I'm also not going to punish you because life happens. I just want you to promise me that if you need extra help, you'll come to my office hours. And if anyone bothers you, you can talk to the guidance counselor-"_

_"She never believes me," I sighed._

_"Then you can come talk to me about that too," she nodded. "About anything, okay, Brittany?"_

_"Ms. Holliday, why are you so awesome?" I smiled and sniffled lightly. It was really really cool of her to be so supportive, but I just didn't understand why. None of my other teachers were this nice. Not outside of my dance classes._

_"Because some of the most exceptional people come from the most unexceptional places," she smiled. "And honey bee, you're an exceptional person, no matter what anyone tells you."_

* * *

><p><em>"What are you doing?"<em>

_I looked up from my laptop to see my sister, Allie, leaning against the door jamb to my room. She had one arm crossed over her chest, squashing a packet of gushers in her fist as she tossed one into her mouth. Her mouth spread into a grin as crushed it visibly with her molars, creating a loud squish. _

_"Avoiding dad," I said softly. I sat up a bit and smiled weakly as she bounced her way into my room, kicking her foot lightly against the door until she hopped into bed with me. She adjusted her glasses from all the movement she had made and then quickly dove her hand into the pocket of my hoodie that she was wearing to toss me a second packet of gushers._

_"He's not still mad, you know," Allie said as she kicked her feet at the blankets. I lifted my computer so she didn't knock it, giving her time to wriggle her toes beneath my comforter._

_"He seemed upset at breakfast," I said quietly. I opened up my packet of gushers and poured a few into my palm. _

_"Upset and quiet are different things," Allie shrugged. She reached forward and traded my green gushers for blue ones. I didn't say anything and simply tossed a few blue gushers in my mouth. _

_"I talked to them," she said. "Mom and Dad."_

_"Yeah?" I murmured. "About what?"_

_"It doesn't help to yell at you for bad grades," Allie said. "It's not because you don't study. It's because the classes are hard-"_

_"Yeah, well, everyone else gets it," I murmured._

_"So what? You're not everyone else," Allie said. "You're good at other stuff."_

_"Like dancing? That's the only thing I'm good at."_

_"You're good at helping mom with the animals." She sat up a bit and reached for my plush zebra, Mika, and gave him a tight squeeze. "Can you take summer classes if you don't pass?" _

_"No," I said, closing my laptop. "It'd cost extra. But it's okay, I think. I talked with Ms. Holliday about my grades, and I didn't actually fail her classes."_

_"Really?" Allie piped up. "That's great!" She scrambled off the bed, Mika in one hand and grabbing at mine with the other._

_"What are you doing?" I said as she tugged me forward._

_"You need to tell Dad!"_

_"No," I said softly. I slipped my hand out of hers as I staggered to my feet and stood still. "I want him to see the report card."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because it's more official that way," I replied. "I don't want him to think I'm lying."_

_"I told you, he's not mad at you," Allie frowned. "He's been working a lot and stuff. He was just really mad in the moment. He actually seemed like he felt bad for yelling at you."_

_"I'll tell him when I get my report card, okay?" I shrugged and turned back to my bed. "Do you know when we're gonna get the tree?" _

_"Mom wants to get a fake tree."_

_"Dad'll never let her," I said, raising my brow and shaking my head._

_"'Part of the Pierce Christmas tradition is going out and cutting down a tree!'" Allie said, puffing out her chest and putting her hands on her hips as she tried to make her voice sound gruff like my dad's. I stifled a laugh and bowed my head. "'It's not a Christmas tree if it doesn't smell like a real tree and have branches for Lord Tubbington to steal!'"_

_"Allie-kat, stop," I giggled. _

_"When are we making our gingerbread house?" Allie said, flopping back on my bed and scooping Mika in her arms. _

_"Do we have a kit?"_

_"Nope."_

_"Mom!" I called from my bed. "Mom did you buy a gingerbread house kit?"_

_"-Get off your butt and go get it yourself. You have a car." My mom's voice shouted from down the hallway._

_"Oops," I whispered, eyeing Allie for a second._

_"What?" Allie sat up._

_"I don't have my car."_

_"How did you misplace your car?" Allie whined._

_"I didn't misplace it! I just left it at school!"_

_"Mom! Can we use your truck?" Allie shouted as she dashed towards the door._

_"Why? What's wrong with Brittany's car? Brittany?" I heard my mom approaching, and I quickly shot off my bed to wrap my hand around Allie's mouth._

_"I've never driven in snow, mom," I said quickly. "My car doesn't have four wheel drive."_

_"Okay," my mom said as she came to my room door. I quickly pulled my hand away from Allie's mouth and wiped it against my thigh. She'd licked my hand. Gross. "Do you have money?"_

_"Nope," Allie chirped, and I shook my head._

_"Alright, I'll give you my card. Might as well give you a list of other things we need for cookies." My mom smiled and lifted her hand to ruffle Allie's hair. "You need a haircut, young lady."_

_"I like my bangs in my face," Allie said loudly as my mother spun around down the hall._

_"I'd still like to see your face every now and then," my mom laughed. _

_"I'll cut your hair," I said with a grin._

_"No way, José! I'm not letting you near my head with scissors," Allie shouted. I gave chase after her down the hallway, poking and prodding at her sides as she squealed. My mother gave a loud sigh as we scrambled into the kitchen. Our dog, Cody, started barking at all the commotion, and Lord Tubbington ran out of the room in terror._

_"Hey!" _

_We all froze when my dad's voice boomed from the dining table. I felt myself shrink back a little, but then I realized he was glaring at Cody. _

_"Settle down," he barked from his cup of coffee and shook his head. "Britt, while you're out, can you stop and get more dog food?"_

_"Yeah," I nodded and slowly straightened up. _

_"Don't forget to get cocoa," he said, looking up at me. His mouth curled into a tiny smile._

_"With or without marshmallows?" I asked._

_"You tell me," he replied with a wink. _

* * *

><p><em> "Told you he wasn't mad," Allie said, bouncing on the edge of the front of the cart I was pushing. I stepped a little faster and swerved the cart back and forth until she was death gripping the metal bars. "Stop it!"<em>

_ "Get off!" I laughed. _

_ "No," Allie said, sticking out her tongue. I stopped the cart abruptly, forcing her to jolt backwards and off the cart. She wrinkled her nose, but it only caused her glasses to slip further down her face when she unwrinkled it. She pushed them back up with one hand, the other extending into the cart to retrieve a package of pre-made cookie dough. "I wanted to make chocolate chip."_

_ "You should have said that when we were in that aisle," I frowned. She smiled sheepishly at me until I rolled my eyes. "Fine, come on, let's go back."_

_ "Yes!" Allie cheered. I shook my head and turned the cart around without really looking. There was a loud bang as the metal collided with another cart. _

_ "Crap! I mean, I'm sorry!" I said quickly. I looked up at the woman pushing the cart, and nearly jolted back myself in surprise._

_ "Ow, honey bee, watch where you're going," Ms. Holliday laughed. "Fancy running into you."_

_ "You're Ms. Holliday," Allie chirped._

_ "I am," she nodded. "And you're mini-Brittany."_

_ "This is my sister, Allison," I said as I pulled back my cart and adjusted it so the two carts were parallel. _

_ "Allie," Allie corrected._

_ "Allie it is," Ms. Holliday agreed. "What are you two little bees doing here? Shouldn't you be out in the snow or vegging in front of a TV?"_

_ "Dad needed dog food," I said, waving my hand at our cart. Allie grabbed a bag of marshmallows and a carton of vanilla icing. _

_ "We needed things too," Allie grinned. _

_ "When has anyone ever not needed marshmallows?" Ms. Holliday nodded as she wrinkled her nose and grinned. "In fact, you've reminded me, I'm going to need to get some myself."_

_ "Are you having a party, Ms. Holliday?" I asked, glancing at her cart. It was full of soda, chips, and assorted other snacks. Maybe buried beneath it all was a turkey, but I wasn't entirely sure. _

_ "I am, but this is mostly for New Years," she replied, staring down at her own cart. "The marshmallows are for me though." She winked. "Hopefully it all fits in my car. Speaking of, did you get yours back from the parking lot?"_

_ I froze and glanced back at Allie. She was trying her best not to grin._

_ "No, not yet. My parents would kill me if they knew I just left my car somewhere... again," I added quietly. _

_ "Well, if you're free later, I can pick you and we can go grab it before they notice. They've done a good job clearing the roads since last night," Ms. Holliday laughed._

_ "That would be awesome." I looked ahead of us and saw that the line was clearing somewhat for the cash register. "Well, we should get going. But oh, Ms. Holliday-!" I stopped abruptly as I almost passed her. I quickly gestured for Allie to wait in line, and she scampered off quickly once I handed her my wallet. _

_ "I was looking at applications earlier," I said, glancing left and right before looking up at Ms. Holliday. I lowered my voice a little before continuing, "College applications." I don't know why I was so nervous. Maybe it was because I was scared I might not even graduate. Looking at colleges was already nerve wracking enough, and I didn't really want to shoot too high just to get my hopes up. But Ms. Holliday said dance school was a possibility, and it was the possibility that I liked best so far. _

_ I could tell my hesitation was making both of us a little anxious, because Ms. Holliday bit her lower lip as her brow furrowed. I jammed my hands into my pockets as I shifted my foot back a little and smiled weakly. "Do you... think you could write me a letter of recommendation? I'm still working out the other parts of the applications, but all of them require that much, and I can't really do that myself. I know it's a lot to ask, 'cause I'm not even doing well in your class, but none of my other teachers like me. Except my dance teacher, but I need two recommendations, and it's just... you said in homeroom that there were dance schools, and Ms. Holliday, I really like dancing-"_

_ I had been speaking very quickly when Ms. Holliday started laughing. My cheeks grew hot out of embarrassment. _

_ "Brittany, I would love to write you a letter of recommendation," she said between laughs. "Just email me what the requirements for the recommendations are. When are they due?"_

_ "I'm not sure," I replied. I wasn't expecting to run into Ms. Holliday today, so I hadn't really read over that part before Allie walked into my room. _

_ "Well, just let me know. What schools are you applying to?"_

_ "Ohio State. And..." I paused. I felt stupid for even thinking about applying for it, but getting rejected wouldn't be as bad as never knowing, right? "...Juilliard. I'm looking into other schools too. I don't think I can afford either, really. Maybe with student loans, but I don't know a lot about that. Maybe it's a dumb idea-"_

_ "-I don't think so," Ms. Holliday said, looking a little shocked. "You're an amazing performer. I haven't been at Ravenswood very long, but from what I saw at the fall dance show, I think you've got a chance."_

_ "...Would it be okay if I came to your office to work on the applications, then?" I asked cautiously. I knew I was asking for a lot of help from Ms. Holliday. She already offered to tutor me and give me extra help. Now I was asking her to write me recommendations and figure out a way to get me into college. I knew I had to do this on my own. Both of my parents loved me, I knew that. Even if my dad was angry yesterday about grades. Still, neither of them thought I could do it. But she was the one that suggested I apply for college in the first place._

_ "I thought you'd never ask," Ms. Holliday replied with a hint of a smile._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I realized after writing this chapter that the intended title, Jeremy, was a bit incorrect, because the story of where Jeremy came from is incomplete. I was originally going to write the chapter as one big chuck, but after I finished reworking my outline for ITYTD, it flowed better to separate the Brittany backstory into two pieces. That said, I didn't want to outright direct the title of this chapter to Ms. Holliday, even though I've had this in the works for quite some time. **

**I had to write a one shot for my own purposes of setting the record straight in my head of Jeremy's background. It honestly won't appear at all in ITYTD, because it has no place. It's a Santana POV, pre-ITYTD, which is something I've considered writing out in more detail, but for purposes of the story... it's a rather trivial document. I'm going to post it on my tumblr, along with my other one shots that I write from time to time, because I found it interesting enough. I'll edit momentarily with a link. The one shot itself foreshadows (a tiny bit, not a lot) some of the things that happen in Chapter 42.**

**EDIT: (remove the spaces or find it at my tumblr at monochromeheartbeat . tumblr .com under the Jeremy tag)**

****tinyurl . SantanaPOVPreITYTD****

**As always, thank you for being so patient with me about the updates. :'] I'm really glad that you all still read the story.**

* * *

><p><em>P.S. - Jeremy has become a really important figure to me and a lot of you guys, but I want to take a moment to do one of those 'dedication' things. If you can dedicate chapters, I want to dedicate this one to my dad. ITYTD hasn't existed for a very long time, but it's become a really important story to me... so... I figured this was oddly appropriate. 14 years ago, this past monday, my dad passed away due to a suicide. It's something I keep in my heart of hearts, and each year, I struggle with finding a way to respect his memory. He wasn't a very admirable person, and as years pass, more and more of those negative aspects are brought to light and the good things about him get lost and faded. But I believe it's important to remember that no matter the bad things in life, there are always silver linings. My dad's silver lining is just a lot harder to see. <em>

_I had a rough week, I won't lie, but for probably the first time in 14 years, I didn't really let it get to me. I don't know how much in part that has to do with ITYTD. I was a few paragraphs from finishing this update when the 17th rolled around. I couldn't bring myself to finish and edit it then, and the rest of the week became a bit overwhelming with neglected homework due to taking Monday off... so I'm sorry for that. _

_My dad won't ever know the person I've become, and all my memories of him are slowly becoming tarnished as the years pass by. But my consolation is that I became the person I am because of him, and I will never, ever regret that. If ITYTD has inspired anyone in any way, then that's as much as I can hope to do. And I think that my dad would have to be proud of that. I get messages sometimes from anons on tumblr or private messages here about how much of an inspiration the story has, and it really strikes a chord with me. Life can sometimes really suck - it hits you hard, and sometimes, it doesn't stop for a while. While I don't know a lot about all the struggles of being LGBTQ and how family dynamics are affected by that, I do know that loosing the people who are supposed to love and care for you is one of the most difficult things to experience. _

_But in 14 years, I can't say I've ever had a better terrible week. I broke the crap out of my phone, caught a cold, passed out for a good 12 hours from that cold, and another almost 24 straight on Friday. I found out some information about my real mom that made my one real lead to what happened to her null and void, and my sister called me crying about my dad on Monday... but because of my friends like Wonderland, Laura, LebaneseToaster, my co-workers and all the wonderful people I've had the opportunity to meet through ITYTD and school, I was actually really happy this week. I don't have a lot of accomplishments that make anyone proud of me, and even less people that are proud of me where it counts. Not because I don't know enough people, but because I have a terribly broken and small family and not a lot of people to count on. So thank you for reading, thank you for sharing, and thank you for helping me find something to be proud of. _


	41. Guacamole

The jostling of the subway forced my eyes to snap open as the side of my face smacked against my raised arm. Even though my Friday class didn't start until eleven, I was extremely tired. Santana and I had stayed up practically all night talking. I'd been to very few slumber parties in the past, but I had never laid awake an entire night just to talk to anyone other than Allie. It was the first time we stayed up all night without being too preoccupied to talk. A yawn escaped my mouth, and I was too lazy to cover it. I readjusted my cheek against my arm, putting my weight into my arm as I swung gently back and forth.

I smiled inwardly to myself as I recalled the long conversation I had with Santana. She had patiently listened to my story about Ms. Holliday, but she interjected before I could get to the part about Jeremy. It was easy to get sidetracked, especially because Santana liked to jump from topic to topic. One second I was explaining about how Ms. Holliday spoke to my dad about the grade misunderstanding after she dropped by to help me get my car, and the next, we were talking about how my dad and my mom met. And how old I was when I started dance lessons. When I got Lord Tubbington. She was surprised to find out he was almost nine. "I thought he was much older," she had said with a small laugh, and I admitted it felt like he'd been around longer too.

Despite all the questions she asked and how attentive she was, she seemed like her mind was a million places at once. I didn't know how to multitask at all, but Santana must be really good at it. She kept listening and talking and fluffing up Jeremy's mane and picking at his fur. She only stopped because she finally dozed off. It was probably the cutest I'd ever seen her, with her passed out in my arms while she had Jeremy tucked safely in hers.

It wasn't until this morning, after she left for class and I was alone, that I realized what Santana had done. By talking with me all night, snuggling closely and keeping me engaged in conversation, she'd kept my mind completely on her. Any thoughts or worries I had about coming to class today were absent simply because Santana had distracted me long enough for me to tire myself out mentally and fall asleep. I was surprised how well it worked, because here I was on the subway, a little too sleepy to be worried.

I buried my face into the crook of my elbow and sighed. Maybe I was still worried, but knowing Santana was going to come to Juilliard to pick me up was reassuring. And hopefully this week I wasn't going to do something stupid to hurt her.

My brow furrowed against my arm and I bit my lip. That was the worst part of it all. I was okay with the bullying; it wasn't anything new. But Tara and Avery - even Madison... I just didn't understand what made people so mean. I didn't know what I had done to get on their bad sides other than be a junior. But they had managed to get under my skin and make me lash out to the one person that made me feel special about myself.

Another sigh escaped my lips as the subway rattled to a halt. I really didn't want to go to class.

* * *

><p>I'd left early in an attempt to arrive before Avery and Tara so they wouldn't bother me, but I hadn't considered that I would be the first to arrive at the dance room. That almost made it worse, because the chances that I'd be alone with them seemed higher now that I was sitting in the corner of the room, stretching before class. I was also pretty sure, knowing them, that the news of me dating Santana had probably gotten around. No, I was positive. Avery and Tara would have twisted everything around and made it into an even worse rumor. I'd been avoiding people most of the week, and I was used to people giving me strange looks as it was, but I hadn't been that oblivious. I knew people knew, but I wasn't ashamed of dating a girl. I loved Santana. And yet I still hid in the corner of the room hoping that no one would notice me as they filtered in.<p>

The first to arrive other than my professor was, surprisingly, Madison. I looked up from grabbing my toes and watched warily as she crossed the room and sat next to the window straight across from me. She looked up only once, but immediately lowered her gaze when she caught me staring at her. I sat up straight and looked to my professor, who was busy reading through an open pamphlet next to the sound equipment. He was a good instructor, but he kept himself generally distanced from socializing. I think it was because he was trying to be professional, or maybe he just didn't care. All I knew was that praise from him was difficult to receive, and if you got it, you were golden.

My other classmates started to file in, but I noticed that they sat at the other end of the room, keeping a good distance between both of us. I looked at Madison again, watching as she stretched with her bright orange earbuds in. She was wearing a standard black unitard today, in place of her usually flashy attire. She looked up again, but this time, not at me. I followed her gaze and almost flinched when I saw what she was looking at. Or rather, whom.

Tara and Avery walked in and dropped their bags against the wall, moving as if they knew everyone was watching them. In a small way, they looked like they were on a runway; it was terrifying, because their path was headed straight towards me.

"Hey, Avery!" Madison shot up beside them and they stopped abruptly. Tara wrinkled her nose and Avery looked surprised by Madison's sudden appearance. I caught Madison glance at me again and I looked away as I pretended to be looking out the window.

"-weeks left in the semester, and finals aren't that far off," Madison was speaking a little quieter now that she had stood up, "so maybe we could do a collaboration for the Spring Show-"

"Why are you talking to me?" Avery scoffed. I kept my gaze fixated on looking at nothing out the window. I didn't want to draw attention by letting them know I was listening.

"The spring showcase is for the _top_ performers, Madison," Tara laughed. "You actually think _you_ are getting in?"

"I was going to audition-"

"Everyone auditions, that's part of the final," Avery hissed. I looked in the mirrors and saw her roll her eyes. "There's a reason they have auditions - so people get _cut_."

Avery flicked her hand at Madison's shoulder and spun around to look at me. Her eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to speak, but my professor clapped his hands together and called for us to line up just before she said anything. I felt relief wash over me as I quickly stood up. The scuffle to line up almost caused me to crash into Madison, and I looked back at her curiously as she slowly made her way to the back of the room.

* * *

><p>Santana smiled to herself as she unclipped the visitor's badge from her newly purchased, maroon leather jacket. In the past, she'd managed to sneak in past the guard by trailing behind a group of students, but this time she wanted to ensure she'd be able to get into the building. Signing up for a group tour had been easy enough, and she was thankful that the waiting list hadn't been that terrible considering the time of year, but she was definitely worried that she wouldn't be able to do this every week. The moment she found the opportunity to do so, she slipped out of the group and headed for the elevator.<p>

Despite being almost an hour early for the end of Brittany's class, Santana tapped her foot impatiently. After what had to be an eternity, the light on the panel overhead lit up and the doors sprang open. She knew roughly when Brittany had breaks in class based on the number of text messages she received, but she almost jolted backwards in surprise at the sight of the single other occupant. It was definitely not her bright-eyed dance partner, but she quickly composed herself and stepped inside. Her hand instinctively reached for the floor button, but the number three was already highlighted.

"You... don't go to school here," Madison muttered softly.

"I'm just visiting," Santana snapped back, flicking her visitor's badge from her pocket. She had the impulse to stick out her tongue, but she reminded herself that she was _twenty fucking one_ and not a child. The two stood in silence for a moment longer, and Madison knocked the Gatorade bottle in her hands against her tightly clothed thigh. Santana stared angrily at the bottle, watching the blue liquid swash around until she couldn't stand it any longer. She stepped forward and abruptly smashed her hand against the stop button of the elevator. It jostled to a halt, and Madison let out a small squeal before backing into the corner of the elevator.

"Listen up, Peter Pettigrew," Santana growled, turning to glare at Madison and advancing as much as she could towards her while keeping her hand pressed firmly against the button. "I don't give two shits 'bout you and your crew of self-entitled, uneducated bitches, but I don't play nice when it comes to people I care about."

Madison tried to shrink back further into the corner of the elevator, but with minimal space between them it seemed impossible. She opened her mouth to speak, but Santana whipped her free hand up and closed her fingers together.

"You don't speak," Santana said harshly. "I don't give a shit if you don't like me. I don't care if you've got a problem with gays. All I care about is that you. Leave. Brittany. Alone. Got that?"

Madison nodded quickly and Santana fell onto her back foot as she looked over Madison up and down.

"Not so tough when you're by yourself, huh?" Santana snarled, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"I never meant to hurt anyone. I'm really sor-"

"You don't get to apologize!" Santana almost yelled. "You're only sorry that Brittany found out about how you were playing her. I don't care how guilty you feel, you deserve it." Santana's chest heaved up and down as she stared at the despondent dancer in front of her. After a moment, Santana stepped back and let her brow unfurl enough that she didn't appear she was about to bite someone's head off, but still enough that she was glowering.

"You're worse than the other two. At least they have the courage to be upfront about being terrible people. You lied to her. Do you know how little she trusts anyone as it is?" Santana pressed her hand to her forehead and sighed. "Never mind. It's not like you give a crap about her well-being-"

"-I do," Madison exhaled softly. It was so unexpected, that Santana actually hesitated long enough for her to say it.

"You have a shit way of showing it," Santana growled.

"It was meant to be a joke," Madison said quickly, glancing at Santana's hand that was pressed to the stop button. "It was Jenna's idea... I didn't have anything against Brittany, and I even like her a bit. I mean, she's kinda funny and-"

"-You don't get to say nice things about her either," Santana shook her head. "And what do you mean it was _Jenna's_ idea?"

"Well after their friend lost out on that scholarship-" She trailed off when Santana raised a questioning eyebrow. "Okay, so Jenna, Avery, and Tara are all from the same high school," Madison explained nervously. "Savannah Arts Academy?"

Madison paused and stared up at Santana expectantly. When Santana didn't react, or rather, gave her a 'who gives a fuck?' wrinkle of her brow and shake of her head, she looked to the ground and cautiously continued.

"Well, anyway, the year that Brittany applied at Juilliard was the same year one of their friends applied. They both needed the scholarship, though."

Santana's head tilted back a little and her eyes narrowed. The space of the elevator became so quiet, the only sound that could be heard was when Santana let out an angry breath through her nose.

"So you're telling me that... all of this started from a grudge Jenna had because Brittany received a scholarship? The bullying was some sort of sick, twisted revenge?"

"Brittany never even knew," Madison nodded. "She doesn't know that half the girls in our repertory class hate her because of what Jenna said about her. It was even before her first day of class."

"But they were roommates," Santana said, more to herself than Madison, as she stared absently at the elevator door.

"Well, Brittany really _can_ dance. Jenna just used her," Madison replied, pausing for a second as she let out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, I know, like I did. She copied and stole routines. Jenna is definitely talented, too, but not _that_ good. The job she got in L.A. - that was with one of the routines Brittany came up with for our repertory class. The one that got her approval to take a senior level class?"

Santana lowered her gaze for a moment as Madison spoke. Her free hand clenched tightly into a ball.

"She never stopped hating on Brittany though," Madison continued, lowering her voice a fraction. "I remember her saying, before she left, that she wanted Brittany to get evicted. Without being able to pay for housing, she would end up having to revoke her scholarship."

"...That _bitch_," Santana hissed. She seemed lost in thought for a moment, but it was brief and fleeting. She looked up at Madison, and her brow furrowed with confusion. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because... Avery and Tara want Brittany out of the running, just like Jenna did," Madison sighed. "I don't know. They think they're better than everyone. Apparently, rehearsing with them doesn't make us friends."

"Like rehearsing with Brittany doesn't make you friends? Go figure," Santana scoffed.

Madison nodded slowly as she looked to the ground. She leaned against the wall of the elevator, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"I was friends with Jenna because helping her was helping me stay above the bar," Madison said with a weak, uncomfortable smile. "It was the same with Tara and Avery. But you spend more than one dance practice with Brittany alone, and you know she doesn't have any malice towards anyone. She's quirky and weird, and kind of dumb, but-"

"She isn't dumb," Santana snapped.

"Sorry," Madison murmured. "She's just... different. But she's not a bad person. Naive and easy to take advantage of, but not a bad person. And I don't care about the whole gay thing."

Santana froze as Madison waved her hand weakly.

"I was surprised. I mean, I knew the rumors about Brittany being easy started from Jenna," Madison said softly. "But I was caught off guard, and I shouldn't have said anything in the locker room. I really didn't mean to draw their attention to us."

"Just because they're awful doesn't take back what you did. So what if you didn't mean for it to happen? It still did," Santana spat. "Because of you, I was made out to be a liar- No, fuck it, you don't need to know. This doesn't change anythin-"

"-We could be expelled," Madison interjected immediately. "Everything we've done is grounds for expulsion. Jenna could even get her diploma revoked."

"Then... why tell me this?" Santana looked genuinely confused.

"Because it's the right thing to do. And I might be a terrible person for what I did, but if any of what I'm going through now is an ounce of what Brittany has had to deal with the past three years? Being told you suck or that you're no good... I've never been at the bottom before." Madison's voice trailed off quietly, and she looked almost as if she was going to cry. "I mean, to think that Brittany had to deal with that feeling since she got here-"

Santana exhaled noisily, practically snorting as she shook her head.

"I'm not falling for your act. I know you're a liar already, so I don't have any reason to believe you," Santana spoke lowly. "But if you are telling the truth, you have just as much to lose if I tell anyone what you just told me. So first things first."

Santana released her hold of the stop button and advanced towards Madison, aggressively throwing her hand in the air as the elevator jostled to life again.

"I can't be here twenty-four seven to keep Brittany safe. You're going to make sure that this bullying bullshit? It ends. Right now," Santana growled. "Even if you have to subject yourself to it. Those other two assholes start shit? You're going to stand up to them, you got it?"

"Mm," the sound barely gurgled out of Madison's throat as she nodded.

"I didn't quite catch that," Santana said, narrowing her eyes.

"Y-yes," Madison repeated.

"Secondly, you don't speak to Brittany. You leave her alone. You don't try to make amends, you don't even breathe the same air she breathes," Santana said, standing up straight as the door to the elevator opened. "I'll deal with the other two. Got it?"

"Yes, of course," Madison said quickly. She caught the elevator door after Santana stepped out. "And, for the record, you two actually do make a really cute couple. The picture on Brittany's phone-"

"Shut the fuck up," Santana snapped. "Don't antagonize me. I know you just want to get back at your dance buddies."

* * *

><p>"Good," my professor said, lightly patting my shoulder. It surprised me, and I even caught some of the other girls staring at me. "Very good. Alright, remember, ladies, the next few weeks should be roughing out your performance proposals. Auditions for the Spring Show are coming up, and each and every one of you is auditioning. Wear practical attire, please-" he paused and glanced at Madison, "-and please be mindful of your song selection. You're dismissed."<p>

I was breathing a little heavily from all the dancing, but part of it was because my heart was rattling against my ribcage. I'd been on the fortunate side of receiving very little commentary from my professor, and once or twice he would correct something and I'd receive a 'better, Pierce,' or a 'that's an improvement,' but I'd never heard him utter a flat out _good_ before. From the expression on Avery's face, I reasoned that she'd never heard it either, and it made me smile to myself.

I could afford to be a little smug; halfway through the class, after our break, Santana popped into the back. She gestured quietly to me that she was going to sit by my bag and even drew a little heart in the air with her finger tips. My professor didn't seem to notice or care that she was there, and no one else dared to say anything.

Once my professor advanced towards the door, I spun around quickly and hopped towards Santana. I was grinning from ear to ear, and I was sure that it was infectious. Santana let out a bubbly laugh as I met her, stretching her hands out to catch mine as I almost fell into her.

"He said _good_," I half-whispered, half-giggled. She wrinkled her nose and let me playfully swing our hands back and forth. I was sure my classmates were staring, but who cared? Santana was here, and if someone said anything, she'd stomp them down with vicious words. I was so happy, I could kiss her if she wanted. And I wanted to. I leaned forward and quickly pecked my lips to hers. She flushed bright red, but held her hands firmly in mine.

"You were amazing," she replied softly. "Why would he say otherwise?"

"I don't know!" I laughed.

"Well, how about I take this _good_ dancer to lunch, eh?" Santana said, slipping one hand free and tugging me towards the door with her other.

"I thought I was supposed to pay?" I said. She was looking past me, and I glanced back to see her staring over to Madison and Avery. They looked like they were having another conversation like the one I'd seen earlier, but this time Madison's face was screwed up like she was upset.

"-That's right, I almost forgot," Santana said, squeezing my hand. "Well, then, we should probably go somewhere super fancy, huh?"

"Don't break my wallet just 'cause you can," I whined as I turned my attention back to her.

"I'm kidding," she laughed, knocking her shoulder to mine as she escorted me out of the dance room. "I don't care what we eat, so long as we do, 'cause I'm starving."

* * *

><p>"This place is absolutely freaking amazing," I said in awe, dropping my hand out of Santana's as I walked into the most gorgeous Manhattan apartment I'd ever seen. There was a ton of open space, and the furnishings were awesome. The living room was the first room to see - but what a space. The entertainment system was taller than I was. Every turn I made came with a bigger surprise. The bar-like divide that separated the living room and the kitchen, the leather bar stools that were placed in front of them. Mercedes even had a porch that showed off how high up her apartment was.<p>

"Calm down, Brittany," Mercedes laughed as she handed Santana a glass. "You might wanna show your girl around before she tears up the place."

"Isn't the tour thing your job?" Santana said, taking a sip of whatever Mercedes handed her and walking up behind me before I could rush off to play with the kitchen faucet. She held her hand at my waist and rested her chin on my shoulder. I took her glass when she offered it, and she laughed when I grimaced. "Not a wine person?"

"Mm-mm." I shook my head and wrinkled my nose.

"I ain't got all day to show everyone around. We got a party 'bout to happen," Mercedes said, flicking her hand in the air and making her way to the kitchen.

"Speaking of, where the heck is everyone?" Santana asked, glancing around the mostly empty apartment.

"Kurt and Rachel said they'd be here with more alcohol once they get out of their practice for this week's _performance_," Mercedes paused to press her hand to her chest and flutter her eyelashes. "I'm still confused on how Rachel drinks alcohol but won't drink milk."

"Don't bring that up, she'll stop drinking and I'll have to tolerate her forever-sober," Santana whined. I smiled and leaned into her.

"Be nice," I cooed, twisting enough to find her lips with mine. "You like Rachel."

"I do not," Santana replied.

"I'm gonna believe your girlfriend," Mercedes laughed. "Anyway, Quinn is coming with Tina and Mike, and Puck and Sam are gonna be here once they get the pizza."

"Puck is coming?" I asked, perking up a bit. Santana looked up to Mercedes as if it was news to her as well.

"Why don't you have any new friends to invite to parties?" Santana wrinkled her nose.

"Says the girl who lives with all her high school friends," Mercedes arched her brow. "I wanted to keep the party small. I'm not gonna ask people from work to show up at my place with my high school glee club friends!"

"Hey, I've met people outside of high school," Santana said defensively. I noticed she squeezed her hands tighter around my waist. She nuzzled her nose against my neck and sighed contentedly.

"Sorry for being direct, but we don't have a lot of time before everyone gets here," Mercedes started. "Have you told Puck about you two?"

I felt Santana tense as she stopped snuggling against me. It was something I had been wondering myself for some time, but I could never really figure out a way to bring him up. Santana's relationship with Puck confused me. Even their friendship. I wasn't surprised, considering I'd never really had those sort of friends or relationships either. Still, I was glad Mercedes was more upfront than I was.

"No," Santana said quietly. "Not to cause any problems, but I don't think a party is the best time to tell him." I looked up to Mercedes, even though I was sure Santana was saying that more to me than to Mercedes.

"I just wanted to know," Mercedes said as she reached for some glasses out of her cabinet. "Because I don't wanna say anything you guys aren't cool with."

"Yeah, no, it's cool, Mercedes," Santana nodded. "I'm gonna give Brittany that tour, okay?" I deflated a bit; I desperately wanted to talk about Puck, but I didn't know what to ask.

"Aight, just don't let me catch you two doing crazy shit anywhere near my piano," Mercedes called as Santana dragged me forward. I twisted so that I was in front of Santana and dug my heels into the ground when she tried to push me forward.

"You have a piano?" I said quizzically, more as a means to keep Santana with Mercedes so we could talk.

"Britt, come on," Santana laughed. "She's got a jacuzzi in her bathroom."

"A jacuzzi you two will stay out of," Mercedes barked as Santana finally managed to lead me down the hallway out of the living room and kitchen area. She was careful to not to spill her wine as she tugged me along down the unlit hallway. A door opened at my right, and she pulled me inside quickly, laughing playfully before she kissed me.

"Santana," I mumbled against her lips. I could tell immediately she had led me to a bathroom. It was a rather nice bathroom, with what little view I had of it. But I didn't care about that, I wanted to talk to her about Puck. And if I had to go back to pretending like we weren't dating, we definitely needed to have that conversation.

Santana stepped back, smiling lightly before she turned to set her wine glass on the counter. She reached for my hands and pulled me towards her so that I wasn't flush up against the bathroom door.

"I'm not hiding us, Britt," Santana said softly, like she knew exactly what was buzzing on in my head. "I didn't know Puck was coming tonight, but I'm not asking you to do anything other than be you okay?"

"Santana, you said you don't want to tell him-"

"If it comes up, it comes up, Britt," Santana said softly, lowering her gaze to our hands. "But it's been a kind of exhausting week with all the coming out and fighting. I don't want to bring it up if I don't have to. We're all going to be drinking and stuff. I know... Britt, I'm being kinda selfish-"

"You're not," I replied quietly, pressing my forehead to hers. "Telling your ex-boyfriend we're dating in the same week that you came out to your other friends isn't really fair."

"You can definitely still kiss me whenever you want to," Santana said, twisting her hands around so that they interlaced our fingers.

"I'll kiss you now," I murmured, slowly shuffling closer to her before kissing her as softly as I could. She spread our hands at our sides and laughed lightly into the kiss. Everything about her was playful and light, and it was hard to feel nervous about Puck. She clearly wasn't, or at least, she wasn't going to let her nervousness about him keep her from being happy. I wished I had as much courage about my own fears.

"-Oh, geez, ladies-"

I snapped back from kissing Santana in time to see Kurt toss his hand up to shield his eyes. She giggled and leaned into me, resting her head against me as I hugged her close.

"You should really learn to lock doors," Kurt replied. "And also not do that sort of thing in other people's bathrooms."

"It was all innocent," Santana replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"My hands were all above waist," I agreed. "And below boob."

"Britt," Santana giggled.

"May I please use the restroom?" Kurt groaned, still keeping his hand slapped to his face.

"Geez, Kurt, it's not the end of the world," Santana grimaced. "Come on, Brittany, you should see Mercedes' office. She has a whole sound studio set up in there."

"What exactly does Mercedes do?" I asked as I was pulled into the hallway.

"You don't know?" Santana asked, arching her brow. "Huh. Well, I'll let Mercedes tell you."

* * *

><p>"I still don't believe you," I said. Looking to my left and right at the rest of the group of ex-glee club members, I wasn't sure based on the expressions I received that they weren't pulling my leg. There had been one too many parties I'd been to in high school for me to be sure that it wasn't some elaborate prank. Maybe Mercedes was renting the place for the night, and everyone had been told ahead of time to make me feel stupid. But I knew Santana wouldn't let anyone play a trick on me like that.<p>

"Not that I don't think you can sing, Mercedes, but for real?" I said quickly. "Like, a _record deal_? A real one?"

"Yep," Mercedes laughed. "I've been working on my EP ever since I started working with Liberty Records. It took some networking with the right people, but I got signed right after the new year. Don't lemme fool you, though, I don't own this place. It's part of my contract."

"I just... and all this started with a YouTube video?" I asked. My mouth hung open as I looked around again. Tina shifted slightly under Mike's outstretched arm, smiling as as she looked past Mercedes to Sam. He sat forward a little in his seat on the excessively large couch as he scratched his nose and looked to the ground.

"Troubletones was probably my favorite thing about high school," Santana said, raising her glass to Mercedes and nodding her head. I couldn't help but feel like she was lightening some tension, but I wasn't sure what it was.

"I thought your favorite thing was glee cl-ahh!" Santana's hand smacked over my mouth as she half launched the rest of her body into my side. Luckily, Quinn shot forward from my other side and grabbed Santana's wine glass before she spilt it all over me.

"That's a secret," Santana hissed in my ear, but she wasn't really quiet at all. Instead, her friends burst into laughter. Well, our friends. I kept forgetting that. It was refreshing. Our friends. A smile spread over my lips as she giggled, burying her face against my shoulder in embarrassment. It took her a second, but she recovered and pointed angrily at Mercedes and then around to the rest of them. "That gets out at our high school reunion, and I swear to fucking god-"

"You're gonna go 'all lima heights on us'," Mercedes and Quinn said in unison.

"No, I'll go all Manhattan on your ass," Santana said, snapping her fingers to her side as she wrinkled her nose.

"You're hardly intimidating since you moved here," Puck announced as he walked in from the kitchen. He held up a pitcher full of a blue drink and smirked. "Adiós motherfucker, anyone?"

"Yes, and excuse you, I am totally badass," Santana said, smacking her hand against my knee as she leaned over me to grab a plastic cup to replace her half empty wine glass. She handed me a cup, and I shook my head lightly.

"Doing what, sitting in front of a computer all day arranging instrumentals? Definitely badass, Lopez," Puck retorted as he poured the blue drink into her cup. I glanced at Santana and saw her nostrils flare.

"What I do is a lot more than rearranging sound files, you ass. And you should be more god damn appreciative if you ever want someone to help you fucking record your music," Santana snarled.

"At least I'm making music," Puck said with another smirk, unfazed by her response.

"I write fucking music," Santana spat. I gave her arm a light squeeze, and she lowered her gaze to her cup before taking a long sip from it.

"I'm just fucking with you, calm down," Puck said, moving to fill other cups before sitting down. "But you could, yanno, _share_ some of that music. What's with that, anyway? Lost your voice?"

"Cool it, Puck," Tina snapped, sitting forward and smacking at him. "Santana still sings just fine. Even if it might be when she thinks no one is around to hear." Tina looked up at me and winked.

"Don't even deny it, Santana," Mike laughed, raising his cup in the air at her. "I've seen you singing to yourself at Lucky Charms when I stop by to visit Tina."

Santana was almost red now. As adorable as she looked, I was sure that kissing her like I wanted to wasn't exactly the best solution to her arguing with Puck. I wasn't even sure how much it was an argument; Santana sometimes acted really mean to her friends, but it was just her way of showing affection in some strange way. I settled for running my fingers soothingly over her arm, hoping it was enough. She looked up at me and smiled weakly, veiled to everyone else by the cup over her mouth.

* * *

><p>Before long, almost everyone had had their fair share of Puck's concoction, which I learned was actually called an <em>adiós motherfucker<em>, and not just something random Puck had said. It was, according to Santana, a mix of vodka, rum, tequila, gin, blue curacao liqueur, sweet and sour mix and Sprite, and named such because of its strong alcohol content. She said this all with a rather silly smile on her face, and offered her cup to me. I took a small sip, but only to taste. I was hesitant about drinking after my last few alcohol-related incidents. I just filled my cup with the extra Sprite instead.

After an interesting game of drunk twister in which everyone but me was too uncoordinated to do well, we had all gathered back onto the couches. Even I was a bit tired, but mostly because Santana made a game of getting in my way as much as possible.

Currently, she was curled up on the seat cushion next to me, her head resting in my lap. She'd had a few shots because of Twister (Mercedes ruling that you had to take a shot any time your ass hit the floor), and she was extra snuggly because of it. I smiled down at her as I ran my fingers gently over her hair, listening to Quinn complaining about Rachel's morning and evening skin care routines to Mercedes, with Rachel butting in every other sentence to try to counter argue, while also half listening in to Puck talking to Mike and Sam about some video game they all played.

"Are you having fun?" Santana asked quietly, lifting her hand and trickling her fingers lightly along my jaw. She had trouble keeping them steady, and I laughed into my smile.

"Very much," I said, wrinkling my nose. "How 'bout you?"

"Mmhm," she hummed. "Yeah." Her slow ability to form even simple sentences informed me immediately that she had drank more than I thought, but at least she was happy. She could be crying right now, but instead her smile curved into a tiny smirk as she let her hand drop from my face and rest gently on my stomach. I didn't think a whole lot of it until her fingers dug into my shirt as she tried to sit up. Her eyes narrowed deviously, and instantly I knew what she was about to do. I caught her hand and started tickling her to ensure she didn't. Not drunk. Not in front of Puck.

"St-st-stop it," she giggled, any hints of lust fading from her eyes as she clenched them closed and wriggled under my hands and over my knees. I laughed playfully, ensuring I had a firm grip on her hand so she wouldn't roll off the couch.

"You two are so touchy," Tina whispered. I almost jumped. I hadn't realized she'd sat down next to me.

"I'm not touchy," Santana replied, contradicting her statement by snuggling into my side.

"Definitely not," Tina nodded in mock agreement. She smiled at me. "Just wanted to come over to check up on Santana."

"I've got her," I said. I felt my chest swell a little with pride. I had her; she was drunk, but at least she was safe. I was looking out for her.

"I know you do," Tina nodded again. "Probably should start funneling her some water or else she'll start her own water works show."

"I'm fine," Santana mumbled, rolling her face against my leg.

"Of course you are," Tina replied in the same calm tone. I suspected she hadn't been drinking as much as anyone else, minus me, of course.

"Why don't we get something to eat?" I suggested. Santana rubbed her face against my leg again, and I gently stroked her hair.

"I wanna sing," I heard her say in a muffled voice.

"What?" Tina asked.

Santana peeled her face away from my leg and repeated herself. "I want to sing. Puck said I can't sing. I can sing."

"Do my ears deceive me, or did Santana Lopez just request karaoke over Rachel Berry?" Kurt said as he plopped down on the couch next to us. "This is one for the record books."

"Shut up, Kurt," Santana muttered, before looking back up at me. "You should sing with me."

"Oh, no," I shook my head quickly. "Of all the people here, you want to sing with me? You're like professional singers and stuff. Or want to be."

"We've heard you sing before," Tina said, furrowing her brow.

"That was before I knew you guys had like... record deals and... bands and stuff," I said, throwing my hand out to Mercedes and Puck and Sam.

"I like your voice," Santana said, sitting up a little too quickly. She teetered for a moment, but my hand shot out and gripped her knee, pulling her firmly back up next to me.

"I like yours more," I laughed, almost leaning down and giving her an Eskimo kiss. I settled for scrunching my nose.

"Nu-uh," she shook her head and leaned into me.

"Yeah-huh," I combated, knowing Kurt and Tina were probably smiling widely at us. It was a little embarrassing how much I wanted to kiss her. She shifted, almost getting swallowed up by the couch before she managed to properly sit upright. It was like she was moving in slow motion, and I was half amused, half concerned by how tipsy she was.

Santana lifted her hand, twisting it in the air and carelessly gesturing with her index finger, followed out of sync by the others, for me to come closer. I smiled weakly, because the look on her face was the sort of suggestive half smirk she gave sometimes before sneaking kisses, and as much as I loved it, doing so constantly seemed like a bad idea. Still, my head inclined on its own, and Santana moved so close to my face that I was sure she was going in for the kill. At the very last, split second, she tilted her head to the side so that her lips were ghosting over my earlobe. Her hand twisted again, this time barely covering her face enough as she whispered, "I do, especially the sounds you make in bed."

A nervous giggle in my throat clashed against a strange urge to gasp, and it came out twice as awkward in a semi-snort. Santana's lips lingered at my ear for a second longer, and my heart skipped a bit when she let out a warm, damp breath against my neck. My body's reaction to the little things she did was almost humiliating considering I should have been used to her by now, but I couldn't help but think her hand wasn't hiding anything.

I turned quickly, sitting forward with a lot more grace from being sober than she had, and grasped her hand as I lifted mine. I managed to construct what I thought was a better veil, but I was sure we probably still looked suspicious. I settled for the excuse of alcohol making her so extremely touchy, especially when she usually knew better.

"You're being very... _wanky_ right now," I whispered, unable to come up with a better description. I couldn't help the large grin on my face despite myself; she was looking up at me with big brown eyes, and even though her smile had a hint of mischief, her nose crinkled just enough that I could tell she was also being sincere. She tried again to sit up, but only managed to roll her head to the side, burying her face against my neck. An audible exhale through her nose preceded her reply.

"I'm feeling very wanky right now," she purred.

I laughed, a little disoriented by her tone of voice that left me a bit careless. I let my hand drop to playfully and soothingly drag my fingers over her arm.

"I can see that," I said softly.

"How about we ditch the dorks, and go have our own party?" Santana murmured. Suddenly, her hand was on my thigh, and my response was yet another nervous laugh. Her proposition sounded _exceptionally_ appealing, minus the name calling. But I was having fun with our friends. Besides, it would be highly inappropriate to do anything with Santana for two reasons. Mercedes was sweet and nice to me, but I had a feeling that if she was anything like Quinn, I'd get an earful if we were discovered doing anything remotely sexual in her apartment. Also, Santana was drunk, and I had to respect her. She was always respectful to me, even when I put up a fight with her.

I almost gulped as I paused to think of a reply. Santana being the one that was drunk, or at least this drunk, wasn't something I had been very exposed to since the first night I slept at the apartment. And back then, I was all too willing to be touchy feely and cuddly with her. I still wanted those things, but I didn't know how to tell her we had to wait. What if she got mad? Or if she started crying. Oh god, if anything escalated, I was pretty sure the only explanation from Santana would be, "Brittany didn't want to make out with me."

My thoughts were interrupted abruptly when something flicked against my cheek. I flinched, thinking at first Santana stole a quick kiss, but then I looked up to see Puck readying to aim another piece of popcorn at us.

"What's so interesting, ladies? Care to share with the rest of class?"

"I was just saying," Santana slurred as she wiggled upright. I tensed for half a second until she continued, "that we ought to sing something."

"Santana, are _you_ suggesting karaoke?" Rachel piped, an astonished look on her face. Apparently, she hadn't heard Kurt a few minutes ago. Santana wrinkled her nose with a slightly disgusted look on her face.

"Ew, no, Berry," she scowled. "We've like... Written shit, we can sing original songs-"

"Oh, like junior year!" Rachel exclaimed happily. "We did all original songs for glee club regionals and nationals. I mean, we didn't win nationals, but I still think the material was very strong and-"

"It was, you butt," Santana almost howled. "Your crazy ass had to go and ruin it with that impromptu stage ki-"

"-Caaan we focus on the fact that we did manage to write two songs and learn choreography in time, despite setbacks of procrastination and Mr. Shue's poor guidance for a set list?" Quinn interjected swiftly.

"I think we can all agree to that," Puck scoffed. "He was like MIA the whole time we were writing songs."

"I can't believe you guys managed to do that," I said, raising my brow.

"Ugh, whatever, I meant original songs like... from our adult lives, not _glee_ club," Santana said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, I'd sing something for you now, but that would defeat the purpose of inviting you all to our concert at the end of the month," Puck laughed, and knocked his elbow into Sam.

"Why can't we sing something from glee club?" Rachel pouted. "It's what made us all friends, right?"

"Oh, don't get all nostalgia bullcrap on me and talk about love and friendshi-"

"-Yeah, you may think that I'm a zero," Puck said, winking at Rachel as he stood up off the couch.

"But hey, everyone you wanna be, prolly started off like me," Tina continued, in more of a sing-song voice than Puck had. I had an inkling I knew where this was going as soon as I saw Rachel's frown turn into a grin. Puck shuffled from the couch and quickly reached for his guitar as Rachel sang the next line while staring directly at Santana.

"You may say that I'm a freak show-"

"Ugh! I don't care!" Santana scowled and waved her hands aggressively at her sides. I leaned to my side and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, but everyone else laughed for some reason. I liked everyone singing, and I knew Santana secretly did too. She was being weirdly moody, though, and I didn't know if it was because she was drunk or if she was annoyed with Puck.

* * *

><p>"-I don't know these songs!" I laughed. Santana was hanging on to me from around the waist, playfully singing along with the rest of the group.<p>

Santana almost had to shout. "Just sing the chorus!" I wasn't sure how we were going to get away with all the noise we were making, but Mercedes didn't seem to be bothered.

"The world is on my side!" Puck and Mike shouted above everyone else, both of them jumping onto the couch. "I have no reason to run. So will someone come and carry me ho-" Mercedes jumped forward and pushed Puck into Mike. Puck fell off the couch and he nearly stumbled into her coffee table.

"Shoes on my couch, uh-huh," she hissed while Santana and Rachel climbed onto the opposite couch after him.

"The angels have never arrived, but I can hear the choir," they sang at the same time, but it was easy to see that Santana was trying to be louder than Rachel. It wasn't working, because it only egged Rachel on more to sing louder. "So will someone come and carry me home tonight-"

Again, they were pushed off the couch by Mercedes, but I moved to catch Santana as she wobbled backwards. Rachel landed a little less gracefully and fell into the other side of the couch. Santana smiled at me and twisted, quickly grabbing her cup from the coffee table and attempted to down it. My eyes widened, and I took the cup away from her. She had had enough to drink; her lack of coordination proved it. She wrinkled her nose in disapproval, but quickly forgot when I grasped her hands and danced with her around the table and started singing the chorus along with everyone else.

"See, you can sing," Santana giggled.

"And you can dance," I said. It always seemed like the appropriate answer.

"Not as good as you," she murmured, leaning into me and resting her head against my collarbone.

"And I can't sing as good as you either," I said, glancing around and quickly stealing the opportunity of everyone jumping around to kiss her forehead. "To each their own."

"Mm..." she exhaled, slipping her hands out of mine to wrap them around my waist again. I laughed, relaxing a bit. No one had said anything about Santana's clingy behavior yet, and I was glad, because I was tired of fighting the urge to be close to her. And she just kept finding more ways to hold and touch me that made it more difficult to hide than just being openly affectionate.

"Maybe we should eat something now?" I suggested.

"We still have pizza left," Mercedes said in passing as Kurt swung her around.

"I don't want pizza," Santana whined.

"Then make yo butt something else," Mercedes called.

"Can we use the kitchen?" I laughed.

"Fuck yes," Santana said, pulling away from me. "Mercedes' kitchen is like Iron chef quality."

"Sounds tempting," Mike said. "Speaking of Iron chef, Santana Lopez, Brittany laid out a challenge for you."

"Bring it on, _Morimoto_!" Santana shouted abruptly. I was a little startled by how excited she suddenly was. She drunkenly stepped away from me to move closer to Mike, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared up at him. His grin grew a little as she glowered, and I couldn't help the giggle that bubbled out of my mouth. She still didn't look very intimidating, even though I knew she was pretty scrappy for her size.

"Name the challenge," Mike said, crossing his arms as well.

"Oh hell no, you are not going to do Iron chef in my kitchen," Mercedes hollered.

"Guacamole!" Santana shouted, ignoring Mercedes.

"Done," Mike shouted back. "To the kitchen!"

There was a mad scramble as all dancing and singing stopped abruptly and Mike and Santana tried to race into the kitchen. Both were a little uncoordinated, and Tina and I hung back to watch her boyfriend and my girlfriend fighting to get through the entryway.

"I'm a little disappointed in how ridiculous they look," Tina said quietly.

"I'm a little disappointed they don't look _more_ ridiculous," I laughed. "They're adorable."

"True," Tina grinned. "Come on, let's go make sure they don't hurt themselves or create something poisonous."

Quinn, Rachel, Mercedes and Kurt sat at the bar stools on the outside of the kitchen as I leaned on the counter, and Puck leaned against the doorway as Santana vainly attempted to wash the tomato in her hand.

"This is gonna be interesting," Sam said at my side. I looked up and smiled weakly. I thought Tina was still standing next to me. I turned and found her helping Mike peel an avocado.

"Cheater!" Santana shouted.

"I don't want him to cut himself," Tina said. "He's not exactly coordinated right now."

"-Why aren't you drinking?" Sam asked. I was still looking over at Santana and Tina when he spoke. I tilted my head to glance at him.

"-Oh, well I-"

"So?! I'm drunk and I'm doing this alone!" Santana yelled aggressively. My head snapped back to her and my eyes widened as she brandished a knife at Tina. Before I could say anything or move to help, Puck was at her side. I frowned, wanting to kick myself for letting my manners get the better of me.

"-Wow, hold up, Santana," Puck laughed, quickly taking the knife away from her. "I guess the Adiós motherfuckers were a little strong. How many did you have?"

" ¡Adiós, hijo de puta! ¡Devuélvemelo!" Santana spat.

"Cool it, Chef Lopez, or you're banned from the kitchen," Mercedes called.

" ¡Y tu-!" Santana whipped around, boldly holding her finger out at Mercedes. Mercedes almost sat up as her brow furrowed, but I shot up a bit.

"Santana, play nice," I said swiftly. "And no one can understand you."

"I understand her," Mike said, grinning.

"You're fucking _Chinese_," Santana said, quickly.

"I also took AP Spanish," Mike laughed. Santana fell silent.

"Let me do the cutting, okay?" Puck said. "Just to be safe?"

"Fine, but you better cut everything _perfectamente_."

"English," I said loudly.

"You know what I said!" she pointed at me. I grinned cheekily, because I was actually learning quite a bit of Spanish. Not always _good_ words, but definitely more Spanish than I knew before meeting her.

"She's feisty tonight," Sam laughed. If this was _feisty_, I didn't know what to describe our night time adventures as. Oh, right, _wanky_.

"So you're not drinking because...?"

I reluctantly tore my eyes away from Santana. I didn't like that Puck was helping instead of me. It was my job to help Santana, right? But telling him that was complicated.

"Oh, yeah. I don't know," I shrugged weakly. "Every time I drink I do something stupid."

"Yeah? Well, I'll tell you a secret," Sam laughed. He leaned in close to me and lifted his hand up to cover his mouth. I couldn't help but think for a second that Santana's nickname for him was a little accurate. "Everyone does stupid shit when they're drunk."

I laughed politely and nodded my head. I knew that, but I think Sam's definition of stupid and my definition of stupid were different. I already felt dumb for a lot of reasons, but something like coming on to Santana and almost getting her in trouble at work... That made me feel stupid in so many new ways. I felt guilty and that I'd overstepped our boundaries as a couple by forcing myself on her. And I never wanted to do that to her again. It made me understand _why_ she wanted our first time to be special and why she'd been so insistent on being sober for it. I appreciated that so much more now. Before Santana, I didn't care if I did something when I was drunk, because it was all fun and games. But Santana wasn't a game. And if she was, I definitely didn't want to lose.

"I just keep feeling bad after I drink," I said softly, looking down at the red cup I was rotating slowly between my fingertips. "I'd rather not drink tonight than risk messing things up again."

"Good call," Sam said. "Maybe you ought to go to an AA meeting, it could really help. Not that I've been or anything. But if I had, you'd keep it anonymous, right?" He winked and smiled into his cup. I laughed again, and nodded my head.

"Maybe, but we're not at a meeting," I joked. "So it's not really anonymous."

"True, we're kind of acquaintances, right?" Sam said. I nodded and smiled. Even though Sam was a little forward, I liked that he was nice. He was nicer than Puck, at least, and I could stand to have more friends.

"Well, kind of acquaintance, who are you rooting for?" I said, glancing back at Santana. She was smiling now, but for some reason it made my stomach feel like it dropped a bit. She was pointing up at Puck as she laughed, and he had a green smear on his face. He was trying to grab ahold of her as he dashed around Tina.

"Mike's my homeboy," Sam said as he leaned back to look over me. "But I gotta admit, Santana's probably got the upper hand since it's guacamole. Although, I don't think I've ever even heard of Santana cooking before."

"She's a really good cook," I said, looking away from Santana and back to Sam. I didn't really like seeing Puck being so playful with her. It was a little bit frustrating.

"So you're rooting for Santana?"

"Of course! Mike's my homeboy too," I laughed. "But..."

I looked to Santana again. She and Puck were holding salt and pepper shakers over Mike's shoulders as Tina tried to shove them back.

"-Cheating, this is cheating!" Tina was scolding.

"...Santana's the best friend I've ever had," I said softly.

"Already?" Sam asked. "That was fast."

"The amount of time you know someone doesn't make the quality any better," I said and smiled at him.

"I'll agree to that," Sam said, knocking his elbow gently to mine. My smile almost faltered, but I knew Tina and Mike might have done the same thing if I were talking to them.

After the initial excitement of the guacamole challenge had died down, everyone realized no one knew what else was needed to make guacamole. We all scrambled to find our phones and look it up. I was really eager to find out, because not only was I still super excited about my new iPhone, but also because if I was the first to find out, I could maybe work with Santana and help her make guacamole instead of Puck. But it turned out I had misplaced my phone, and when I found it stuck in between seat cushions in the couch, Puck had already brought up a recipe on his phone.

I practically flopped onto the couch cushion in my disappointment, but I hardly had time to mope. Sam sat down next to me, offering me a slice of pizza as I sat up. I declined and watched him take a rather impressive bite out of it.

"Don't call me a mindless philosopher, you overweight glob of grease," Sam said in a strange voice before he tore his teeth back into the cheesy pizza. He grinned up at me expectantly and I shook my head slowly.

"C3PO...?"

I stared incredulously at him and watched as his grin turned to a frown.

"Why does no one watch star wars in glee club?" he groaned. "Where's Abrams when you need him?"

"I'm sorry...?" I said sympathetically. I'd seen Star Wars. Like once, with my dad. But not enough to quote it.

"I do impressions," Sam explained. "It's kinda my thing. Like, Rachel and Kurt's obsession with broadway? Or Santana's bitch act-"

"Santana isn't," I replied quietly, glancing up to look over the back of the couch to the kitchen. Santana was frowning over Puck's cell phone, and I sighed. "She's really nice."

"Yeah, I know," Sam laughed. "She just likes to act tough."

A smile formed back on my lips as I nodded slowly and turned to look back at him. Santana did pretend to be tougher than she was. It was funny, because she was about as intimidating as a teddy bear. To me, anyway.

"Can you do an impression of Winnie the Pooh?" I asked quickly. Maybe I could try impersonating him the next time Santana tried to be tough as nails, and I could respond that she was tough as fluff.

"I can try-"

"Shut up, I'm fine!"

I snapped up from the couch to see Santana storm out of the kitchen.

"It's just fucking 'cause of onions okay?" Santana shouted as she shoved Puck back. Tears were visibly streaking down her cheeks because of her mascara. Tina and Mike rushed to hold Puck back and pulled him back into the kitchen.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath. I stood up and made my way towards Santana as she disappeared down the hallway. Something gripped my arm, and I spun quickly, very much prepared to tell Sam he needed to let me go help Santana, because I'd spent enough time with him instead of her tonight than I had wanted to. But I was surprised to see the blonde person standing behind me was Quinn, not Sam.

"Hey," Quinn whispered. "I know you want to help right now, but you should let Tina and I handle this."

"She's crying," I objected.

"She always cries when she drinks this much," Quinn replied. "But as far as Puck and Sam know, you two are friends."

"And so are you and Tina," I said through gritted teeth. I should be with my girlfriend, I'd wanted to be with her all night. Why was I being forced away?

"Exactly, Britt," Quinn muttered. "Santana's _best_ friends, to _them_. It's weirder for us to sit back and let you handle it-"

"Like you sat back and let me handle her crying the last time she and Puck argued?" I said, a little louder than I had meant to.

"Brittany, we're creating two scenes now instead of just one," she said firmly, narrowing her brow. "Do you want it to be three by taking away Santana's right to come out properly? Puck already doesn't get you two. He's been eying you weirdly all night."

"I-" I opened my mouth to retort. I didn't think she was one to talk, with how she'd reacted before.

"We've all been walking on eggshells tonight because Santana didn't say anything immediately," Quinn whispered. "It's too late in the game to bring it up-"

"This isn't a game, Quinn."

"It's a phrase, Britt," Quinn said and nodded her head. "I know it's not a game. Which is why you need to have a little faith and do what I say right now."

"Why can't you just talk to Puck?" I said, pulling my hand out of hers.

"Because Puck is my ex-boyfriend too," Quinn sighed. "Or something. Look, Brittany, you can argue with me all you want. I don't like dealing with a drunk Santana any more than anyone else does, but the longer you keep me from going down that hall and talking to her, the longer it'll be before you can."

I stared back at her. She wasn't looking at me angrily. Her expression was stern, but also calm. She looked almost a little sad. This wasn't the Quinn that told me I didn't love Santana enough. I think she felt sorry she was butting in on something I wanted, and should be able, to help with.

"What am I supposed to do?" I murmured.

"Talk to Rachel, pretend like nothing is wrong, because we're not sure it _is_ anything more than onions," Quinn laughed weakly. "Stuff like this happens at almost any party, Britt, but you just gotta act like nothing is wrong or it'll ruin the whole thing."

I nodded. That explained a lot more to me than Quinn knew, because I always wondered how bad things could happen at parties and no one seemed to care.

"Okay," I said.

"Thank you, Britt," Quinn murmured, before she turned and followed Santana.

* * *

><p>"Oh, dear," Kurt sighed.<p>

"I told Brittany she had to stay back, and you're in here?" Quinn shouted as she held the bathroom door open and pointed out of it.

"Well, honestly, if you've been drinking, maybe I should stay," Kurt said, leaning against the bathroom counter as he looked at Santana, who was slumped in the shower, sobbing over her knees. "We don't want this to turn into a shouting match."

"Fine, just, ugh," Quinn rolled her eyes and stepped toward Santana, kneeling outside of the shower. She exhaled softly and looked like she was trying to calm down. "Santana." She paused to clear her throat. "Santana, come on, look at me."

"Go away," Santana muttered.

"Puck's not here, okay? It's just me and Kurt. We wanna talk," Quinn said as gently as she knew how. "Can I come into the shower?"

"No," Santana replied.

"Okay," Quinn said, looking up at Kurt and then gesturing to Santana helplessly.

"Santana, you're gonna ruin your dress if you get mascara on it," Kurt said as he kneeled down next to Quinn. Quinn smacked him on the arm, and he scowled. "Sorry! It's true."

"What did Puck say?" Quinn asked softly. "What happened?"

"N-nothing," Santana murmured. "I didn't want to make guacamole with him."

"Okay," Quinn nodded. "You wanted to make guacamole with Brittany, okay. That makes sense."

"You know, that sounds oddly like something you would make a sexual innuendo about," Kurt said, holding a finger up as he smiled at Santana and then to Quinn. She glared at him and smacked his arm again.

"Not helping," Quinn hissed.

"Okay, okay," Kurt replied defensively. "Santana, why are you so upset though? Brittany doesn't have any reason to worry about you and Puck. She knows you're gay."

Santana sniffled as she lifted her head off her knees. Quinn leaned forward and brushed her hair out of her face.

"I just... it's not about me being gay," Santana's lower lip quivered. "It's about her being _bi_."

"What?" Quinn said, wrinkling her nose. "That girl has more devotion to you than Rachel does to NYADA."

"Woah, now, don't make outrageous statements," Kurt said, forcing a laugh that caused a weak smile to appear on Santana's lips for half a second. She huffed and looked down at her knees.

"Seriously, where is this coming from? You were dancing and singing all night," Quinn said.

"And touching," Kurt nodded. "You guys were all over each other, even if you weren't kissing. Which, by the way, thank you very much. Everything I wanted to see, especially when Mercedes said I couldn't bring any of _my _friends."

"Kurt, really, stop," Quinn sighed. "But he's right."

"No, he's not," Santana said, shaking her head violently. "She was too busy talking to _Sam_ to help me, and then I got stuck with _Puck_ all night."

"Maybe she was stuck talking to Sam, too," Quinn said softly.

"Yeah, maybe you were too busy with Puck, and she got stuck," Kurt nodded.

"Well _maybe_ she's not into girls?" Santana shouted. Kurt and Quinn snapped back, eyes wide as Santana covered her face with her hand. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, and shook her head.

"Brittany loves you, Santana..." Quinn said softly.

"What if she only thinks she loves me?" Santana muttered. She let her hand drop with a thud against the ceramic tiles of the shower. "What if she's just never had anyone that was willing to be with her? Maybe she's actually straight, and doesn't know it because she's never had anything better than me?"

"Santana," Kurt muttered. "That's not how it works-"

"And _you_ know?" Santana shouted. "You've always known you were gay. And you didn't see how happy she looked with him."

"You're being ridiculous, Santana," Quinn said. "And questioning whether she loves you like this is only going to make her more insecure about your relationship."

"Well maybe there's reason to be insecure," Santana snapped.

Quinn hesitated, and looked to Kurt.

"Santana, do you even know if Brittany is bisexual?" Kurt asked.

"Of course I do," Santana said, looking angrily up at him through bleary tears. "She likes who she likes," Santana said, tossing her hand out in front of her and shaking her head. "She said gender doesn't matter."

"Then it doesn't matter," Kurt replied quietly. "Not to her. And that also applies to friends."

Santana pursed her lips, but didn't reply.

"You can't keep her from having friends," Kurt said. "She shouldn't be penalized for being open to loving whoever she wants, just like you shouldn't be."

"I'm not-"

"You are," Kurt said. "Even if you didn't mean to. And it's okay to be jealous sometimes."

"I-" Santana paused and shook her head. "...I guess."

"Besides, Santana, Brittany isn't bisexual," Quinn said, gently squeezing Santana's knee. "She's pansexual."

"So? She can still date guys," Santana tore her leg away and twisted in the shower so she wasn't facing either of them.

"So it means she did a lot of thinking to come to that conclusion," Quinn said. "Most people don't even know what being _pansexual_ means. It's a disservice to her for you not to understand that."

"I know what being pansexual means-"

"But she's extremely comfortable with her sexuality," Quinn said. "She's even joked about it to me and Rachel. She doesn't see anything wrong with being with you. She never did, did she?"

Santana paused again, and then twisted to look up at Quinn.

"No," Santana replied, sniffling quietly.

"If she doesn't question it, why should you?" Quinn said softly. "She _loves _you. Adores you, even. Don't let someone like Sam make you unsure. Brittany wouldn't risk what she has with you. She'd rather be alone than lose you at all."

"...Maybe, but... she didn't even want to sing with me," Santana blubbered.

"-Santana, really? How does that have anything to do with this?"

"I don't _know,_" Santana sobbed.

"Oh, Santana... come on," Quinn almost whined. It seemed impossible to reason with Santana. "Maybe we need to get Bri-"

There was a quick knock at the door, and the three of them paused to look up.

* * *

><p>I knew I was being impatient, but sitting around fidgeting while Rachel talked about other songs they sang at nationals or sectionals or whatever while pretending to be enjoying guacamole with me was maddening. I couldn't sit still knowing that Santana was literally in the next room crying. After a few minutes, despite Rachel's protests, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I knew no one bought that excuse because that was exactly where Santana was, but I didn't care.<p>

I rapped at the bathroom door, and after a pause with no response, I opened it.

Santana was curled up in the shower, while Kurt and Quinn were kneeling next to her. She looked miserable. All of them did. Quinn and Kurt didn't say anything as I closed the door and hurriedly climbed over the edge of the tub to join Santana in the shower. She immediately wrapped her arms around me and buried her face into my neck.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

"No need," I said weakly. "I'd much rather be in here with you," I laughed. I caught Quinn's eye and she smiled.

"You want us to go?" Quinn asked.

"Wouldn't that be conspicuous?" I asked, arching my brow.

"We'll just go wait in the room across the hall," Quinn gestured as she pulled Kurt up. "Make sure no one bothers you two."

"But everyone else gets to eat the guaca-" Kurt cut himself off from Quinn's glare and bowed his head. "Yes, yeah, we'll be across the hall. Santana, cheer up."

Santana flipped him off as Quinn dragged him out of the bathroom, and I stifled a laugh. I held her tightly and waited a few seconds after we were alone to speak.

"Please tell me this was an elaborate ruse to get me alone," I asked playfully. When she didn't join me in the laugh I forced, I quieted and bowed my head to kiss her forehead. "Okay..."

I knew better than to force Santana to talk. I knew from the night we slept in her circle chair that she needed time to clear her head, and like then, I was sure it probably had something to do with Puck. I was fine waiting for her to tell me what was wrong, even if it was escalated by her drinking. While I waited, I shifted so that we would be more comfortable, wiggling my arm underneath her body and pulling her on top of me. She nestled further into me and sighed, and I felt silent tears drip against my neck.

I felt helpless. Santana always knew the right things to say and the right things to do. What was the right thing to do? She'd hold me close, kiss me softly, and sing me a song or hum sweetly in my ear. It was an unexpected way of making me feel better, but was it also the sort of thing that made her feel better?

I tilted my head and planted a kiss on the top of her head, holding for a few seconds before letting my fingers run gently up and down her back. It was the sort of thing I did for my sister when she was sad. Tickle massages were what we called them, but it was hardly a massage at all.

"Let me introduce myself," I whispered softly, furrowing my brow slightly as the words fell from my lips. I was off pitch, I could tell from the acoustics of the shower stall. "I'm all smiles."

I squeezed her tightly and hugged her closer.

"You may know me as a former 'most love only lasts a while'," I sang softly, cracking what felt like a tiny, broken smile. I didn't really feel happy if she was unhappy. "Pessimistic, so realistic, you get the picture.

"I met you, now my world is so much bigger," I continued, tilting my head up. My eyes felt like they were watering a bit, but I really didn't want to cry too. "Upside down, off the ground it's what you do-o-oo."

I felt and heard my voice crack softly, and I inwardly cursed at myself. I was supposed to be making Santana feel better, and I was so bad at singing because it just made me sad too. But Santana would totally keep singing. She sang sad and happy songs to me when I was sad. She even sang Dance Ass to me. That wouldn't be a helpful song to sing right now though. Maybe after.

"When you touch me, it's like the very first time," I sang weakly. "I'm so lucky to say that you're mine. I still get those stupid butterflies, but it's what you do... I'm loving everything you do."

She didn't move at all. She just kept laying still in my arms. Maybe this wasn't helping at all. I probably just sounded bad and was making her feel worse about herself. A sigh escaped my lips and I stared up at the shower head. I briefly wondered if turning it on would help. Maybe it would wash away the sad feelings. No, that would just make her mad.

"Why'd you stop?" Santana whispered softly. I jolted slightly when she spoke, but quickly recovered to look down and catch her peeking up at me. I smiled and kissed her cheek.

"Sorry, sorry," I chuckled, and helped her sit up a bit. Once she was nestled properly in my lap, I wove my fingers in hers and looked back up at the ceiling.

"...Crazy how it happened so fast," I started up again, lifting my hand to quickly wipe away the tears that had been building up before swiftly placing it back at her side. I knew now that this was helping, so I wasn't so sad. "Truly blows my mind. Going on a hunt for four leaf clovers to wake up to that smile each sunrise."

"Whenever I'm not by your side," Santana sang weakly as she lifted her head from my chest and pulled her hand out of mine to wipe her eyes. She sniffled lightly and made a vain attempt to smile. "I get home sick."

"A little pathetic, with a dash of ooey, gooey so romantic," I said, wrinkling my nose at her as I moved to press it against hers. She let out a laugh, and looked down in embarrassment. "Upside down, off the ground, God I love you."

"Upside down, off the ground is what you do-o-oo," she sang back. Her hand moved to my side and clung lightly at my shirt.

"When you touch me, it's like the very first time," I whispered softly through tiny giggles. "I'm so lucky to say that you're mine. I still get those stupid butterflies."

"But it's just what you do," she sang over me.

"I'm loving everything you do," I nodded. "I'm loving everything you do."

Santana was smiling now, and she shyly averted her gaze as she rested her head back against my chest. I lifted my hand to stroke my thumb under her eye, freeing her face of the remaining tears that rested there, before dragging down her cheek to try and help get rid of the smudged mascara.

"Feeling better?" I asked. She nodded and nuzzled her nose against my neck.

"Sorry," she murmured.

"It's okay," I nodded. "It happens. Do you wanna talk about it?"

"...You'll get mad," Santana murmured.

"I don't think I could get mad at you. Do you know how cute you look right now?"

"Don't tell me something like that, I could use it against you," Santana frowned. She stared up at me for a second before we both started to giggle.

"I'm not worried," I said. "Did Puck say something that made you mad again?"

"Hm? No, no, Britt," Santana shook her head as she sat up a bit. "I was just mad he kept helping. I wanted to be with you, and then you were gone."

I froze. Santana was upset because I left her alone with Puck? Maybe I should have realized that myself...

"You and Sam looked like you were having fun," Santana said, looking down at the tub. She started fidgeting with her hands, twisting her fingers together until I sat forward and caught her hands in mine.

"Wait, were you jealous?" I asked, before I really could stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth. Maybe I should have thought that through, it sounded kind of accusatory.

"Maybe a little," Santana replied sheepishly. I smiled and leaned forward to kiss her. I held my lips firmly to hers for a good few seconds before pulling away.

"I don't like Sam, I told you that before. Not like that anyway," I said with a laugh. "But if we're being completely honest, I did get a bit upset that Puck swooped in to help you make guacamole."

"We're insane," Santana laughed. "All this over guacamole."

"If its as good as the rest of your cooking, I'm definitely jealous Puck got to help make it."

"It probably tastes terrible," Santana said and shook her head. "Mike and I kept trying to sabotage each other."

"I'm still sure yours is better," I squeezed her into a hug and pulled her back on top of me.

"Can we stay here a while?" Santana laughed.

"Hmm... let's see, stay in the bathroom, alone, with my beautiful girlfriend or..." I trailed off and drummed my fingers against her back. "I _guess_ I'm okay with that."

"Don't be facetious," Santana said, wriggling her whole body against me until we were lying lengthwise as comfortably as possible in the tub.

"I don't actually know what that means," I replied.

"It means stop teasing me and just give me a kiss, you dork," Santana said, nudging her nose to mine. I grinned.

"I can definitely do that," I whispered before lowering slowly to kiss her lips.

* * *

><p>"...Santana," I murmured. I opened my eyes and tried to sit up, but the weight of her body on top of mine kept me from doing so. Laying in a bathtub was not the smartest decision, because one side of my body was numb from lying beneath Santana and my neck felt really tense. There wasn't much to do to alleviate either one; as far as I knew, she was asleep.<p>

I hummed softly, rubbing the palm of my hands up and down her back. She moved, a little, just to bury her face into my neck. I wondered how much time had passed. We'd definitely been in the bathroom a while, and Quinn had kept her word about keeping people from coming in. But that was a little problematic; I mean, what if someone needed to pee? I looked down at my sleeping girlfriend. I was torn between wanting to let her sleep and wanting to make sure no one had to invade our privacy.

"-Santana's still in there," Quinn's voice came from outside the door.

"-in there for almost an hour-"

"I don't care, just stay out of the bathroom-"

I tensed. Santana kind of needed to wake up _now_. Like, _right now_. I rubbed my palms along her back a little harder and tried to nudge her awake.

"Santana, wake up," I said quietly.

"-if she's still not feeling well, shouldn't you be in there with her anyway?"

The other voice was muffled, and I couldn't tell who it was. A boy, for sure, but definitely not Mike. I didn't want to take the chance that it was Puck, but before I could sit up properly, the door swung open.

"Sam, what the hell," Quinn growled as she stepped backwards into the bathroom. Her arms spread wide, and she was trying to keep him from entering the room completely. His hand was holding the door handle still below her arm, and he stared over her shoulder. I froze, my mouth parted slightly. Quinn glanced back at me and then dropped her head.

"Ah, is she okay?" Sam asked.

"She's asleep," I explained quietly as I looked back down at her. I didn't really know what to do. It wasn't exactly the best position to be discovered, but it also wasn't the worst. She wasn't making out with me and didn't have her hand up my shirt.

"She probably shouldn't be sleeping in the bathroom." Sam knelt down next to the tub and extended his hand. "Need help moving her to the living room?"

"We're okay-"

"-As much as I want to leave Santana be, it's a little hard to tell people they can't use the bathroom, Britt," Quinn said from behind Sam. "Maybe we should move her."

"Can we do that without waking her?" I whispered.

"We can try," Sam nodded. "Come on, help me sit her up."

Quinn helped me silently maneuver out from beneath Santana while I tried to help Sam. It didn't work out very well at first. I think we were all terrified that she was going to wake up at any second, but we did eventually get the both of us out of the tub. Sam was stronger than either of us were, so he scooped Santana up and headed towards the door. It was a little disorienting trying to walk after them, considering half my body was asleep, but I wobbled my way behind alongside Quinn.

"What time is it?" I whispered to Quinn, staring intently at the back of Sam's head. She looped her arm in mine, and I smiled weakly. I guess I was a little more disoriented than I thought.

"I don't know, a little after one, I think," Quinn murmured.

"I'm just gonna set her down on the couch," Sam said, looking up at me. I nodded, and Quinn guided me towards the couch as well. Once Santana was nestled on the cushions, I curled up at the base of the couch so I could look up at her.

"She's still asleep," I almost laughed.

"Yeah, she's a trooper," Sam nodded. I lifted my hand to brush her hair out of her face, but paused to look up.

"Where's Puck?"

"Kurt and him live in the same area, so he took him home once Tina and Mike got him to settle down," Sam replied.

"Was he mad?" I asked.

"A little," Sam said quietly. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled at me as he nudged his elbow to my arm. "Don't worry about it, he's just agitated that Santana isn't giving him the time of day like she used to."

I nodded again as I returned my gaze to Santana. Her makeup was still a bit smudged, and her hair was a bit of a mess, but it made me smile anyway. I didn't like lying about us, but I really couldn't say I liked Puck either. Maybe it was because Santana didn't even know how to talk to him. I picked my hand up again and fixed her hair, getting lost for a moment in the tranquility that had settled on her face. I never wanted Santana to feel sad, but knowing that wasn't possible, I wanted more than ever to be able to be the one to make her not sad. Maybe she was having more pleasant thoughts in her dreams.

"You two look good together," Sam said just before patting my arm. I jolted, because I'd almost forgotten he was sitting right next to me. He smiled and stood up. I paused to stare at him for a moment.

"You knew?" I whispered.

"Hey, I'm not as dumb as I look," Sam grinned, tapping the side of his head and winking.

"Is Puck?" I asked before I could stop myself. Sam laughed and shook his head.

"Puck will believe what he wants," he said and shrugged. "But it'll be okay, yanno? He just wants Santana to be happy. He thinks he can make her happy."

"I like to think I can make her happy," I murmured.

"Anyone who isn't blind can see that," Sam nodded. "It's too bad Puck's a little nearsighted."

"Maybe he should wear glasses." I wrinkled my nose as I grimaced. I didn't think his mohawk and glasses would mix well.

"Maybe," Sam agreed. "Well, I should probably get going. Don't wanna be late for lunch tomorrow with Mercedes."

"Mercedes?" I asked, arching my brow as I looked up and around to the kitchen. I caught Mercedes exchange a smile smile in our direction, or rather, Sam's direction.

"We're going to the movies," he whispered, leaning forward and raising his hand to his mouth. "Nothing fancy, but... she's busy, so I'll take what I can get."

"I didn't know you liked her-"

"We're just friends," Sam smiled weakly. "Or trying to be."

"You weren't always?" I asked.

"Long story short, we have history," Sam shrugged. "I'll tell you more about it next time. You take care of her, okay?" He pointed to Santana and smiled as he stepped backwards towards the kitchen to say his goodbyes.

"I will," I nodded with a cheeky grin.

Once Sam left, it was just Mercedes, Tina, Mike and the rest of us from apartment 313. We were negotiating how we were going to get home while helping Mercedes clean up. Rachel wanted to take the subway, but Quinn didn't like the idea of having to lug Santana home, since she was still passed out on the couch. Mercedes just kept saying she didn't have enough room to keep the six of us, so we had to get out. I'd have been content snuggling up with Santana on the couch if she'd let us, but I was definitely not going to ask. Instead, I managed to find as much space on the couch as I could to sit next to her while petting her hair.

"Get up and help, Britt. Your new friend status doesn't give you a get out of clean team pass," Tina said as she picked up a cup. "Oh man, party foul, this is like still half-full of tequila."

"Santana was drinking straight tequila?" Quinn asked, glancing over me from behind the couch.

"This is Santana's cup?" Tina asked, turning it slowly to look at the side. There was a poorly drawn unicorn on the side that I had taken to drawing for Santana. "Ah, okay."

"Such a waste," Tina shook her head.

"Gimme," Mike said, snatching the cup out of her hand before she could say otherwise. He tossed his head back, only to splutter a second later. "Th-this is water," he coughed.

"No way," Quinn said, dropping her hands to her thighs. I looked back and forth between the two.

"I was with her all night, she was definitely drinking whatever Puck made," I said. "That blue drink."

"This is definitely water," Mike said, shaking his head.

"When did she stop drinking?" Tina asked, staring quizzically to Quinn and then to me. I shook my head, and looked down at Santana. She had curled closer to me and her arm was snaked over my waist, but she still had her eyes closed. If she hadn't been drinking as much as we all thought, was she pretending to be asleep? And even if she was asleep now, why had she gotten so worked up if it wasn't for the alcohol?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: First off, thank you so much for your kind words about my last a/n; I didn't expect to get so many nice messages. Secondly, about the Spanish: I know I am terrible at Spanish. I asked my followers on Tumblr to help me with the small bit of Spanish that is in this chapter, because I wanted to make a play off of the drink _Adios Motherfucker__, _but I do apologize if it's incorrect. I got a lot of feedback from a lot of different people with very different translations... So I'm not sure what was right.**

**We're slowly slowly getting to the end, and I feel REALLY bad that this chapter had so much Puck/Santana, Brittany/Sam tension, especially considering the most recent episode and all the nervous hype about Bram being a thing. I had this planned since like... Er, whatever chapter was Santana 101, and so it had to come up eventually. The focus of this chapter wasn't even really about Puck or Sam; it's about Santana, but that might be lost in the translation. **

**Also, someone said something about other fics referencing this one, but honestly? As much as I appreciate being informed, I don't really mind. I think it happens sometimes, especially since this is fanfiction about characters we all really care about. And even if I was upset, I don't think there is anything I could do to stop someone from referencing or borrowing material. But thank you, as always, for reading and looking out for this fic. : )**

**PS - Sorry for the not-so-frequent updates. I feel like I'm repeatedly disappointing everyone with that, but my schedule is bonkers. **


	42. Jeremy: Part 2

I was restless. All night, I had dozed in and out of sleep. Light was filtering through my window just before dawn, and all I could see was Santana. I gazed down at the smooth caramel skin that dipped from the base of her dark raven hair not in awe, but in concern. Her back was to me, and she was fast asleep. She had been for hours, as far as I could tell. She'd woken up long enough to exit the taxi, nestle herself into me in the elevator, and let me change her into her pajamas before passing back out. She'd hardly said a word, just mumbling softly and making it very difficult for me to get her shirt on. She'd settled for no pants before crawling into bed, and that was that. She hadn't moved at all since.

Maybe it was out of habit, but staring for so long at the nape of her neck made my body incline. I let my lips gently press against her skin. I don't know why I waited there, but I did for several seconds. My arm that was draped over her ribcage rose and fell with her breathing, but that was the only movement she made. She was deeply asleep, and I was sure I wouldn't be able to wake her if I wanted. I did want to talk to her. Thoughts of yesterday were buzzing through my head, and it was really hard to turn them off.

I moved to kiss up her neck, slow and gentle, until I reached just below her ear. My hand slide up over the softness of her shirt, resting at her waist as I nudged my nose to her cheek. I wanted to whisper her awake, say nothing and everything all at the same time. Sweet and true things so that when she did finally wake up, she would feel the tickle of my lips on her ear and smile as her first act of the day. But I didn't know what to say; once she was awake, I'd have to dampen her spirits by asking her more about why she had gotten so upset if she hadn't been drinking as much as I thought.

My hand dragged away from her waist as I pulled away from her. I sat up slowly, careful to pull my feet from the covers. Maybe I'd just let Santana sleep in. I could make her breakfast in bed in case she had a hangover, and at least it would keep me busy while I thought.

Arriving at the bottom steps of the stairs, I was a little surprised to see anyone else awake on a Saturday morning. Quinn was facing the window above the sink, seated at the kitchen island, clad in her pajamas. As I stepped closer, I saw she had her hands resting on a mug of tea, and she was tapping her slippered foot at the swivel chair frame. I cleared my throat to announce my presence several feet before I entered the kitchen. She jolted upright, turning quickly to look up at me.

"Morning," I said quietly.

"-Britt," she breathed, closing her eyes momentarily and shaking her head. She calmed quickly and turned in her chair to follow me as I walked around the counter. "I thought I was the only one up."

"I was about to say the same to you," I replied as I opened the pantry and glanced back at her.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"Not really," I said, frowning as I held up a box of pancake mix. It felt really light. "What about you?"

"I slept for a bit," Quinn said with a shrug. She stared down at her mug and smiled weakly. "I usually don't take anything Santana says to heart while she's intoxicated."

I nodded my head as I looked up from the near empty box of pancake mix. Quinn and I were in the same boat then, although I always took the things Santana said to heart. But we were both worried, and that made it a little less lonely; at least I wasn't the only one with uneasy thoughts.

"We don't have enough to make pancakes," I sighed, placing the box back in the pantry.

"That's what happens when you make food and don't go grocery shopping," Quinn laughed. Her voice was always so quiet. Even her laugh was. "You're making Santana breakfast?"

"I wanted to..." My voice trailed off as I rested my head against the pantry door, holding it firmly with my hand as it wobbled under my weight.

"I'll help," Quinn offered as she stood from the chair. I looked up, watching with curiosity as she retrieved milk from the refrigerator. She paused, holding the eggs halfway from their place on the door before she placed them back down and closed the door. "Sit down, I'll make you some cocoa first."

"I can make myself cocoa," I offered, but she shook her head.

"There's no rush. Santana's probably gonna sleep a while," she smiled. "And I don't want you catching the stove on fire again."

"One time..." I grumbled.

"One time too many," Quinn laughed. She turned her attention back to the stove, and I watched as she bustled about. She seemed to know her way around the kitchen better than Santana did; Santana was a good cook, but she often forgot where things were and took several minutes looking for pots or pans or trying to remember where certain things were. I guess Santana wasn't really accustomed to cooking.

It felt like the first time that silence between Quinn and I wasn't entirely uncomfortable. She was preoccupied with the cocoa, but I knew she wouldn't mind if I said anything.

"I'm sorry last night was so weird, Brittany," Quinn said from over the stove. She glanced back at me. "We didn't handle Santana's outburst well at all, did we?"

"It turned out okay," I replied, shrugging lightly.

"I guess," Quinn nodded. "You guys were in there awhile. The bathroom, I mean."

"We weren't doing anything," I said quickly. "I promise."

"I know," Quinn laughed, bowing her head and shaking it lightly. "I mean, were you two talking all that time or just sleeping in the tub?"

"Oh..." I looked down at the kitchen island countertop. It wasn't until I looked down that I realized I was fiddling nervously with my fingers. A mug appeared in front of me, and I looked up to see Quinn smile before she sat down next to me.

"You don't have to tell me what you two talked about. I just know Santana was upset," Quinn said. "And if she wasn't drunk, then she probably meant a lot of what she said."

"We didn't talk that much, to be honest," I said, shifting the mug between my fingertips. "I'm still not really sure what she was upset over. Sam? Puck?"

I closed my eyes and shook my head, as a tiny smile formed over my lips. I'd gotten just as anxious over Puck, and it really was silly. Santana had affirmed time and time again this past week, and even longer, that she cared about me. I really had to start trusting her. Did she maybe not trust me? Because of Sam...?

I looked down at my mug in surprise. Santana didn't trust me either. That was it. No. She did. She trusted me with her heart. She opened herself up to me, hadn't she? Let me in when no one else was able to. Maybe I did trust Santana more than I thought. I think the difference was just how badly I needed her.

"-Britt?"

My eyes snapped up from the mug to Quinn. She was staring at me curiously, her eyebrows knit slightly with concern. I noticed she still had half a smile on her lips.

"Sorry, what?" I said, slowly bringing the mug of cocoa to my lips. Mint. Quinn somehow managed to make even hot beverages have a slight chill to them. Not that it was bad.

"I said that I don't think Santana cares that much about Puck or Sam," Quinn replied.

"She cares a lot more than people think," I replied, setting my mug down.

"Maybe," Quinn nodded. "But Britt, Santana wasn't upset because Puck was with her or you were hanging with Sam-"

"We were both a little jealous," I laughed. "It was silly."

"It's not silly," Quinn frowned. I stopped chuckling immediately. "She's scared she's going to lose you to someone else."

"Why would she think that?" My voice was an odd pitch higher than normal as I jerked away from the counter.

"Maybe she doesn't understand how important she is to you. That she's irreplaceable," Quinn shrugged. "Seeing someone else make you happy... that scares her a bit."

"That's..." I trailed off. I understood that. People replaced me all the time. But Santana didn't need to worry about something like that. She made me the happiest I'd ever felt before. I hadn't considered that Santana might be scared of not just losing me, but losing me to someone else. Last night, when she was drunk, I thought she was just jealous because she wanted to spend time with me and didn't get to. Not that all that time had been snatched away by someone else, and that it had made her feel like she'd won second place.

"We worry too much," I murmured.

"Hm?" Quinn set her mug of tea down. "Why do you say that?"

"We haven't even been together that long," I said. "We worry too much about things we shouldn't have to."

"I think your relationship escalated so quickly that a few problems did as well," Quinn replied. She patted her hand on my knee before standing up. "But I think the key to a good relationship is strong communication. Santana said you two understand each other really well just through body language alone."

My frown turned quickly into a shy smile. I didn't know how accurate that statement was; a lot of the time, I felt like I didn't understand Santana at all. But whenever we were alone, the physical aspects of our relationship were so much easier to understand; whether it was dancing with her in a club or the more intimate moments we shared. Sure I was apprehensive, but I could almost always feel how she felt. That was how it was the first time I danced with her at the studio. How neither of us needed to say a word, but knew it was okay when Santana kissed me the for the first time.

"But you and Santana are as much alike as you are different," Quinn continued, drawing me from my thoughts. "You have a lot of the same worries about each other, but the roots are from different places."

"What do you mean?"

"You're scared that this is _too_ perfect, and that it won't last," Quinn said. "Right? But you're scared because you always lose it. Santana's scared because she's never had it."

"Never?" It came out as a whisper. Santana had the friends I never dreamed I could have; I didn't think it was possible for Santana to feel as alone as I did sometimes.

"Well, yes and no," Quinn said, tilting her head to the side. "She's had people love her, but I'd be willing to guess this is the first time she's reciprocating it. People... have very different hearts, Brittany. They don't always work the same way."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience," I laughed. The expression Quinn had on her face didn't brighten at my laughter, and even seemed to darken when she tried to politely smile.

"I suppose you could say that," Quinn said, nodding her head as she turned back to the refrigerator. "From my personal observations, you have people who experience matters of the heart or pain in very different ways. Sometimes, a problem or situation will feel like a needle, and others feel like a sword piercing the heart."

I nodded slowly. That made sense. Sometimes problems were big and some were small.

"People can feel that pain as it is, and usually that's the case," Quinn continued, all the while gathering materials from the fridge and placing them on the counter. "But sometimes, a needle feels like a sword. A word someone says may feel heavier than the weight of the world. Something small said or done to one person could make all the difference to someone else."

I stared absently at the small pile of eggs and cheese and milk that Quinn was setting on the counter. I wondered what word made Quinn feel small. And what made Santana feel like she was carrying the weight of the world. I knew what made me feel inadequate. Maybe it wasn't _stupid_ to feel that way at all.

"Alternatively," Quinn said, as she turned to remove a pan from the bottom of the kitchen island cabinet. "Some people live their lives with swords that feel like needles. They face hardship after hardship, but keep pressing forward. They grow numb to the pain."

I looked up just in time to catch Quinn's eye before she turned back to the stove. She looked away quickly, but I knew the sadness in her face when I saw it. Quinn was a person that grew numb to pain. I suddenly really wanted to know why, but I didn't feel like I had the right to know. My problems sounded like needles.

"So what you're saying is Santana and I are making a big deal out of nothing?"

"Brittany, a needle that feels like a sword is still a sword," Quinn replied, as if she'd read the shift in my expression all too well. "And a sword that feels like a needle is still a sword." She looked up and smiled weakly. "When it comes down to it, anything that doesn't feel like a needle being a needle is still something worth being upset about."

"But they really shouldn't feel like swords," I replied, fidgeting again.

"I think you underestimate the strength of your heart, Brittany," Quinn said, turning back to a bowl as she cracked an egg. "Being bullied and picked on starts like a needle, but a heart can't take that constant abuse. The needles stop feeling like needles, and it starts to feel like a sword. But at some point, they aren't needles anymore, either. Especially when you don't have anything to make your heart feel better."

Quinn finished cracking eggs, and stood still for a moment. She looked back at me and smiled.

"You and I have the same kind of heart," she replied. "We just got here in different ways."

When Quinn turned her attention back to mixing the eggs, I stayed still a moment. I didn't have a strong heart. Not one like Quinn did. I wondered how many times Quinn went to bed feeling like she had to cry, and even more I wondered how many nights Quinn had someone to make her feel better. Before I could think to stop myself, I slipped out of my swivel chair to give her a tight hug from behind.

"Britt-"

"I'm sorry you had tough things to go through, Quinn," I muttered. After a moment, she relaxed and patted my hand with hers.

"Nothing I can't handle," Quinn said. I nodded and slowly pulled my hands away from her.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I asked cautiously. It was easy to see that Quinn had walls up at most times, but for the first time it seemed like Quinn wasn't hiding behind them. She smiled weakly and shook her head. I stepped back and leaned on the kitchen island. I had no idea why Quinn was like that though. All I knew were the things that Santana and Rachel told me, and that conversation I wasn't supposed to hear in the auditorium.

"Are you mad at Santana?"

"What?" Quinn snapped her head up and looked back at me. "No, why?"

"You said you don't think Santana cares about Puck," I replied, averting my gaze to stare down at the linoleum tiles of the kitchen floor. "But _you_ really care about him. And yesterday you said he's sort of your ex-boyfriend too."

Quinn pursed her lips and her eyes flickered for a second. Did I say something wrong?

"It's more complicated than you think, Brittany," Quinn said in a voice that was exceptionally small, even for someone as soft-spoken as she was. "It's not just that Santana and I were fighting over the same guy again."

"I didn't think that," I said quietly. "Santana doesn't like Puck like that, right?" I paused, because I hadn't meant to sound so unsure.

"Obviously not," Quinn exhaled softly.

"But you like Puck," I stated more than I asked.

"Maybe."

Quinn turned back to the counter and started adding things to the eggs. I pushed away from the kitchen island and twisted so I was leaning against the fridge and I could look at her face.

"What's stopping you from talking to him?" I asked. It wasn't like Santana was an issue. Or was she? "Is it 'cause Santana didn't tell Puck yet?"

"No," Quinn sighed. "Brittany, I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh," I breathed. Maybe I had overstepped my boundaries with Quinn.

"-Britt, don't look at me like that," Quinn replied. My eyes widened and I averted my gaze. Look at her like what? "It's just hard to talk about. Not everyone gets a happy ending."

I tilted my head to the side, crossing my arms lightly over my chest. I knew in movies and books, I always liked happy endings. When things were sad, they made me sad, and I didn't like that. So of course, my favorite stories were ones that had happily ever afters. Not because I liked to think of it as an end, but because I wanted to believe that the happiness continued.

"Why wish for a happy ending, when you could have a happy rest of your life?"

Quinn looked up at me, eyes widening as she frowned. "-What?"

"You shouldn't let your life feel like a story book," I laughed weakly.

"I don't..." Quinn trailed off and wrinkled her nose as a small smile crept over her lips. "Maybe I do do that..."

I grinned and shuffled closer to her. "Books don't end because the pages stop, you know."

"Yeah..." Quinn nodded. "It's just, with Puck... I don't know how _be_ happy when everything about it feels sad. Does that makes sense?"

"I think so," I replied. I didn't know what Quinn meant specifically, but I definitely knew the feeling. It was hard to try push through sad feelings. "But maybe you need to write a new story."

"Are you telling me I need to move on?" Quinn chuckled half heartedly.

"I think you need to take more chances," I replied. "Santana makes fun of you for not dating-"

"Not everything in life is about dating," Quinn practically scowled.

"-I know," I laughed. "I don't think she teases you because of that though. I think she just wants you to be happy too."

Quinn was silent a moment before she shook her head and turned back to the stove. "I've taken enough risks. I don't need to take any more."

"Okay." I nodded. It was hard not to say something more, but I didn't want to push Quinn to do anything she was uncomfortable with. "But you know..."

I paused, and bit my lip. No one, with the exception of maybe Santana, had ever relied on me before. I wanted to be a good friend, just like I wanted to be a good girlfriend. I just didn't really know what that meant. Or how to be one.

"I'm here if you ever want to talk. And I'll be here if you ever take a risk and it goes wrong." I didn't know if friends said things like that. It seemed like one of those things that was mutually agreed upon, but never spoken out loud. But I think Quinn really needed to hear it.

"I know, Britt," Quinn laughed. "It's good. That you want to help. And... maybe you can."

Quinn looked at me quizzically, smiled, and then returned to her attempt at making an omelette. She hadn't turned on the stove, and fumbled with it for a moment before recomposing herself.

"Never mind," she laughed. "We'll talk about it later. You need to focus on Santana right now. Don't let me deter your path."

"But-" I frowned. As much as I was worried about Santana, I really wanted to help Quinn if she was going to let me.

"I'm fine. I told you that you and I have similar hearts, right?" Quinn said as she reached up above the stove to the cabinet with all the spices. She glanced at me and smiled. "In that respect, Santana and I are very different."

"Huh?"

"Santana's heart is very sensitive," Quinn replied.

"...So needles feel like swords," I murmured, bowing my head in apprehension.

"Exactly," Quinn said, tapping her index finger to her nose. "You complement each other."

Was that why Santana liked Quinn before? They didn't get along all the time, but they were friends. I felt my cheeks flush. Quinn recognizing that Santana and I worked well together one another meant a lot.

"What kind of heart does Rachel have, you think?" I piped, hopping up and sitting on the counter. Quinn swatted her hand at me as I nearly sat on the bag of shredded cheese she had set out.

"She's a lot like Santana-"

I grinned cheekily.

"-Stop it!" Quinn said abruptly. "Rachel is very nice, but I just-"

"It could make an interesting _story_," I started to snort with laughter, and she hit me again.

"Stop it, Brittany!"

* * *

><p>I crept quietly back into my room, carrying a baking sheet in my hands that was stacked with all the things Quinn made for me to give to Santana. We didn't have a food tray or anything like that, so Quinn helped me improvise by decorating it with paper and napkins. She even gave me a flower from the potted plant Rachel kept on the dining table, promising not to tell if I didn't. When I managed to close the door quietly with my foot, I turned to find Santana where I'd left her curled up on my bed. The blanket pooled around her waist, and I could see that her shirt had ridden up a bit to expose her back.<p>

Smiling to myself, I set the tray on my desk and crept towards the bed. My knee had barely pressed to the corner of the mattress when she suddenly began to stir.

"Britt...?" she said groggily as she lifted her head from the pillows. Her hair fell into her face, and she looked anything but happy to be awake. I wrinkled my nose and swiftly lifted up the covers, diving beneath them.

"Britt, what are you do-" she managed to say before I wiggled into her, tickling my hands to her sides from under the covers. She shrieked, "-ing! Oh my god, stop!"

"Rah!" I growled. It was hard to see with the blanket over my head, but I managed to feel my way around Santana's waist and stomach to tickle her. She writhed beneath me, a mix of profanities and laughter escaping her mouth. I wasn't entirely sure all of it was English.

When she tossed the covers from over top of us, I had my teeth bared and was just about to sink them into the soft skin I had managed to expose by lifting her shirt. I froze and stared up at her, quickly curving my lips into a smile instead of viciously attempting to eat her.

"Hi," I chimed, scrambling to crawl over her. She looked up at me with a bewildered expression on her face, eyebrows furrowing as they clashed with the smile she was trying not to show. Her hair splayed on the pillow beneath her head, and I could feel her legs against mine as I propped myself up and over her.

"What exactly are you doing?" she said, arching her brow.

"Not what," I said, lowering to nip at her nose. "Whom."

"Mm," she hummed, wrinkling her nose as she let herself smile. "Not sure what I did to deserve such an exciting way to wake up, but I don't really think I can complain."

I sat up for a second to grab the comforter and tossed it over my shoulders before I lowered over her again. I gnashed my teeth together and wiggled my nose against hers as I bared my teeth again.

"You _should_ complain, you've just been captured by a cuddlesaurus rex," I growled, moving to playfully nibble at her neck. She laughed and wrapped her hands around my waist, pulling me down with her embrace. I felt her legs tangle around mine and I laughed.

"A cuddlesaurus rex, huh?" she smirked. "Looks like you're the one that's caught."

"Oh, no!" I chirped, faking to desperately wiggle free. I was sure I could get out if I wanted, but I really didn't. "My weakness! Pretty ladies! With bed head!"

"Ah-!" she scoffed, dropping her jaw. "I do not have bed head!"

She tightened her grip on me and wriggled, struggling with my weight. After what felt like several minutes, I let her flip me over. I let my hands drop to smack the mattress as she took my place on top. She glared down at me, and I couldn't help the broad grin that spread on my face. She tried to hold her stare, but her expression softened as she closed her eyes and shook her head.

"And then the cuddlesaurus found the sleeping beauty's weakness," I whispered, straining upward to peck her lips. "_Charm_."

"Stop being so goofy," Santana giggled, still avoiding my gaze as her cheeks flushed. I loved it.

"And breakfast in bed," I said arching my brow. Santana lifted her head and glanced over to my desk.

"Oh, but it's so far away," she groaned.

"Who said anything about getting out of bed?" I wiggled my brow. She dropped her head and started to laugh. I lifted my hands and dragged them along her sides until she nestled herself down on top of me. She hummed softly when she nuzzled her face against my neck.

"I like the idea of staying in bed all day," she sighed contentedly.

"Mm, whatever you want to do," I nodded. She hummed her response, patting her hand around lightly until she grasped the edge of the blanket and tugged it back up to cover us.

I was happy to have Santana snuggle me, especially considering there hadn't been much affection with her passing out last night. I spent a while just running my hands over her back beneath the covers. She was still for the most part. So still, in fact, that I was sure she'd fallen back asleep. I didn't mind. I closed my eyes and let out a soft sigh.

"Are you feeling okay?" I thought out loud. I realized now that she was resting in my arms that waking her up as I did might have been a bad idea if she had a hangover. I didn't anticipate a response, but then she peeled her face away from my neck and pressed her lips to my cheek. My eyes snapped open in surprise.

"Yeah," Santana exhaled. "Thank you for getting me back to my own bed safely."

"This is my bed," I grinned.

Santana shifted a little and glanced around. She smiled and lowered to kiss my lips.

"So it is," she murmured. "Our bed, maybe?"

"I guess I can share," I replied. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have it anyway."

It wasn't like there had been a single night I didn't share my bed with Santana. I wrinkled my nose as she giggled, and she rolled off of me so that she could nestle into my side. I turned as well, gazing happily down at her. She bowed her head, shyly picking at my shirt. It made my smile widen, something I thought would be impossible without hurting my cheeks. She was timid this morning, and as cute as it was, I couldn't help but wonder why. Perhaps she was just happy. She looked happy, until her smile curved downward into a small frown.

"Hey," she muttered sheepishly. "I'm sorry. For last night. You shouldn't have had to-"

"-I don't mind," I said truthfully.

"But I went overboard. That's not okay," Santana shook her head.

"It happens," I said, leaning forward and bumping my forehead to hers. "But you were super upset last night."

"I know," Santana sighed.

"Was it really just because you were drinking?"

Santana withdrew a little, wetting her lips with her tongue. I could almost see the cogs in her brain turning, and I felt myself deflate a little when I noticed she didn't feel comfortable just stating what was on her mind. It meant it was probably something serious.

"What happened with Puck, Santana?" I whispered apprehensively.

"Nothing," Santana breathed, shaking her head as she looked back up at me. I guess the small crinkle in my brow gave away that I didn't quite believe that, because she let out a soft sigh. "Nothing happened."

Santana bowed her head, and I felt her hands slip away from where they rested on my waist. I grasped them quickly and brought them up to my lips, kissing over her knuckles lightly. I wanted her to know it was okay to talk, because I always wanted to listen. She smiled weakly and inched closer to me, resting her head beneath my chin as she pulled our hands to her chest.

"That's the problem, Britt," Santana whispered. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what to tell him."

"The truth?" I said quietly. "That you're happy. And you want him to be happy for you?"

"He's brash, Brittany," she said as she lifted her head to look up at me. "And I'm scared he won't be. Happy, I mean."

I pursed my lips as I looked down at her. The way her lower lids twitched slightly as her brow furrowed, I could tell that she was sad. I didn't understand why, but I recognized that she was hurting. Quinn was wrong; Santana cared about Puck. Santana cared sincerely for all of her friends. Her heart had an immense capacity to care for others, but it was too sensitive to give so carelessly like mine did. Santana was smart about her heart.

I furrowed my brow. I couldn't help but feel a little nervous. Quinn didn't want to talk to Puck for some reason, and neither did Santana. But at the same time, he was part of their group of friends. Friends that, so far, were all amazing people to me. Something didn't fit into the picture with Puck, and I had no idea what it was.

"What can I do?" I breathed. Her eyes flicked up to mine.

"Nothing," Santana said quickly. "This isn't your problem- He's not your problem, Brittany. I just need time. It's not easy. This whole... being open thing.

"I am so glad that Quinn and Rachel and Kurt and everyone are supportive," Santana said, ringing my hand lightly. "But that doesn't make it less overwhelming, you know? I just need time. More time. We've only been dating for so long, and I do plan to be with you for as long as I can."

My mouth curved into a tiny smile.

"But we need more time. I'm loving every moment we've had together, but a few weeks ago, I couldn't even admit to myself that I was gay," Santana said softly. "Does that make sense?"

"Of course," I nodded.

"Okay, good." She smiled. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just worried about you," I said. She lifted her hand and gently brushed it over my cheek.

"Don't be," she smiled. "I just need to know that we're on the same page before I'm ready to do anything about Puck."

"We're not on the same page?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.

"I think you're a little ahead of me," Santana laughed. "You know about me."

"I do?" I arched my brow and smiled.

"About me being a lesbian, yes," Santana said, bowing her head. I followed her gaze to our hands and watched as she slowly linked her pinkie in mine. "You're part of that story, and so you know. But your reservations about how you feel about me don't come from the fact that I'm a girl."

"I'm trying, Santana. I think-"

"Shh." Santana hushed me with a kiss. "I know trusting all of us is hard, but that's not what I'm talking about."

"I don't understand what you're talking about," I murmured.

"You asked me once about my sexuality, remember? Before Spring Break. And I told you I didn't want a label," Santana said, squeezing her pinkie around mine as she inched closer. "You offered then to tell me about you, and I didn't let you. But we're a label now, Britt. You're my girlfriend. And I don't know anything about what you went through to not question that kissing me was ever wrong."

"You thought kissing me was wrong?"

"I think kissing you was the first right thing I've done." Santana paused and smiled weakly at me, waiting for me to smile back. When I did, her lips parted as she grinned.

"How did you know?" Santana asked. "That you were attracted to someone like me?"

"How did you know?" I said, wiggling my eyebrows.

"I just knew," Santana replied. "I saw you, and I knew."

"That's how I knew," I whispered, leaning forward and planting a tiny kiss to her lips. "But you're asking about before that."

"I am," Santana whispered.

"It's a long story," I smiled.

"I'm not going anywhere," Santana laughed.

"Yes, you are," I said, sitting up abruptly. Santana stared in bewilderment at me as I hopped up off the bed, throwing the covers to the floor as I charged towards my desk. "Come on, follow me!"

"Britt-"

I grasped the tray of food and quickly hustled to the window, fumbling with one hand with the latch before I pushed it open. "Grab Jeremy."

"To the fire escape?" Santana wrinkled her nose.

"To the roof," I chirped. "It's a nice day out, come on."

"Why bring Jeremy?" Santana said as she scrambled out of bed.

"Because he's part of the story," I said as I threw my leg over the window sill.

"Wait, wait," Santana cried behind me. I glanced back to see her struggling with her foot tangled in the sheets. "I'm not wearing any pants."

"I don't mind the view," I laughed, ducking my head beneath the window.

* * *

><p>"On a cold winter day of the new year of my last year of high school-"<p>

"Really?" Santana arched her brow.

"-I'm picking up where the last one left off, after Christmas," I scoffed. Santana smiled, playfully turning the flower from the food tray under her nose as she gazed up at me. I paused a moment longer before continuing.

"-School had just started back up, and it had been snowing again-"

_I paused and raised my hand to knock on door to the office again. Before my knuckle even managed to strike the wood, it burst open. Ms. Holliday smiled brightly at me and stepped back._

_ "Hey, honey bee," she said. "You're late."_

_ "I-I know," I chattered, bowing my head as she let me into her office. _

_ "Where's your coat? It's freezing-"_

_ "I-It's in the laundry," I replied, following her hand as she guided me to one of her office chairs. _

_ "Why is it-" Ms. Holliday cut herself off as she shook her head in realization. "Another coffee bomb?"_

_ "It was t-too cold to wear something covered in coffee," I nodded. "I didn't want it to t-turn into a fra-frappuccino. _

_ "Who did this?" Ms. Holliday snapped as she grabbed her cardigan from the back of her chair and draped it over my shoulders. _

_ "I don't know," I murmured. "I was in d-dance, and when I got back to my locker, is was all over."_

_ "I'll talk to Ms. Renner and see if we can't get a list of the students that have class during that time-"_

_ "It d-doesn't really matter, Ms. Holliday," I said. "If I draw more attention to it, it's just going to get worse."_

_ "You don't know that," she said as she sat down in her chair, opposite of me and behind her desk. _

_ "I do know that," I replied, looking to my knees. "It was like that at my old schools."_

_ I stared at my legs for a long while until I noticed Ms. Holliday wasn't going to argue with me. I looked up and saw her frowning sadly at me. When I caught her gaze, she looked away and swiftly began to shuffle through papers. She retrieved a blue, glossy folder and flipped it open, slowly drawing out the letter from inside. _

_ "Well, why don't we just focus on new schools, then?" Ms. Holliday smiled, holding out the envelope for me to take. "You got this back from the dance division at Juilliard." _

_ I paused, staring at the sheet of paper for a moment before delicately taking it from her. I'd asked Ms. Holliday to help me with the applications and used my school mailing address for it, but since school had only just started back up, I hadn't been able to pick up my mail. I hadn't even finished sending in all the other documents, but there was a screening process that I had sent in an audition tape for several weeks back. _

_ "Are you just going to sit there staring at it, or are you gonna open it?" Ms. Holliday laughed._

_ "I..." I nervously brought my hand back, flipping the envelop over and cautiously picking at the seal. I knew this letter didn't mean I was going to get in, but it could mean that my plans were about to be cut short. I bit my lip and finally managed to focus my shaking hands enough to tear the letter open. For some reason, the paper inside felt as slippery as water, and I had a hard time pulling it free of it's paper confines. _

_ After I unfolded it and had a firm grip on the paper, I held it up and went straight to the first line. I couldn't even read my name. It was my name right? Brittany S. Pierce. Okay. The next line was even harder to read._

_ "...I've been invited to a live audition," I breathed. My mouth spread into a grin, but I felt my eyes watering up, and then suddenly a small blotch of liquid fell onto the paper. _

_ "Oh, Brittany-" I heard Ms. Holliday scramble from her chair. Ms. Holliday wrapped an arm around me and gave me a light squeeze. I was shivering from the cold of having to walk through the snow from the dormitories, and I suppose I was shaking from nerves too. But I was crying because maybe, just maybe, I could do something right._

* * *

><p><em>Ms. Holliday left me alone in her office to run and get hot cocoa. I had no idea where she was procuring hot cocoa from, but it wasn't impossible to slip into the cafeteria at Ravenswood. Plus, there was that café down the street. In the time she was gone, I'd read over the letter twice more, a little sad that some of the letters were smudged from tears. It was still legible, of course, and I learned that I would have to go to Chicago in February to perform at a live audition. I set the letter aside and flipped through the blue folder on Ms. Holliday's desk, where she'd written a check list for me. <em>

_ I slumped back in my chair, and stared up at the ceiling. Ms. Holliday's office was lined with shelves, and there were dark blue curtains hanging over the window. Most of the offices looked like that. I tilted my head to look at the curves in the curtain, wondering absentmindedly how on earth I was going to get to Chicago for an audition. I could drive there, maybe, but not by myself. I hadn't told my parents yet about the application. I was sure they would tell me not to bother. Things had gotten better once Ms. Holliday spoke with my parents about my grades, but we still couldn't afford for me to go to college. _

_ My brow furrowed, and I felt like I was going to cry again. _

_ "Hey, honey bee. I got cocoa," Ms. Holliday announced happily as she walked through her office door. I made my best effort to smile, but her smile disappeared the moment I turned to look up at her._

_ "What's wrong?" she said, scooting into her seat. "Don't tell me you stopped drinking cocoa."_

_ "No, it's just..." I shook my head. "Ms. Holliday, the live audition is in Chicago. I can't go to Chicago on my own. I don't have the money for a plane ticket, and I can't drive that by myself-"_

_ "I'll go," she said immediately, stretching her hand across her desk and handing me a cup of cocoa. I looked hesitantly at it before directing my attention up to her. "It's a Sunday, right? I can drive you."_

_ "Ms. Holliday..." _

_ No teacher had ever cared about my well-being and education before, and it was a little startling. I couldn't ask Ms. Holliday to drive me to Chicago, and I honestly hadn't thought to._

_ "It's not like it's out of the way for me," she said, snatching the letter from the table and scanning the page. "I was going up to see my friend that weekend anyway."_

_ "Oh," I said quietly. She smiled and set the paper down._

_ "You're going to that audition, Brittany. I'll be damned if we don't at least try," she laughed. She set the letter inside the blue folder and snapped it shut before turning her attention to another folder on her desk. She spun it around flat on the table and slid it towards me. "I think you should still apply to Ohio State."_

_ I reached forward and took the folder. It somehow seemed less glamorous than the Juilliard application folder that she had been keeping for me. I'd already read most of the content for both schools, and I knew Juilliard was more expensive. It was also a million times harder to get in. That said, Ohio State probably took more consideration into my GPA as a state university. I'd also have to take the ACT exam, and I was positive that wouldn't go over well. I dragged my finger along the center crease of the open folder, furrowing my brow as I bit the corner of my lip._

_ "Ms. Holliday, I want to go to Juilliard."_

_ "Brittany," she laughed, sitting forward in her chair. "Ohio State is a good school. It doesn't hurt to have a second choice. You're shooting really high with Juilliard. Think of it as a safety net."_

_ "Juilliard offers scholarships," I said softly. "I can be considered for it during my live audition. It's a full ride."_

_ "Brittany, there's no guarantee-"_

_ "Ms. Holliday, I can't afford either school. And Ohio State has more liberal arts courses that I'd need for my general education requirements. We both know I suck at school as it is. I'm only good at dancing. Even if Ohio State offered a scholarship I could apply for, and they don't, the likelihood of me being able to keep up my grades to maintain a scholarship are slim to none."_

_ I dropped my gaze to the floor._

_ "It's Juilliard or nothing," I said quietly. _

_ "Well," Ms. Holliday said, sitting up and smiling at me. "Then we better work really hard. But come on, we have to get to class now."_

_ "Definitely," I nodded, a weak smile forming on my lips, scooting out of my seat to collect the book. She was doing so much to help. I didn't think I'd ever be able to repay her. I had to get in. I just had to. Especially if I was infringing on her visit with her friend in Chicago. I paused at the door and turned back. "Ms. Holliday, can you let your friend know I said thank you, too?"_

_ "Hm? Oh, yeah, sure," Ms. Holliday nodded._

_ "What's their name?"_

_ "Um," Ms. Holliday paused, furrowing her brow. "His name is Jeremy."_

* * *

><p>"Jeremy is a real person?"<p>

Santana arched her brow at me, and I gave her a small smile.

"He's right here, isn't he?" I said, picking him up and giving him a squeeze.

"I mean, he's named after someone?"

"Maybe," I winked.

"Is Jeremy Ms. Holliday's boyfriend?" Santana sat up, her eyes widening slightly as they lit up. "Oh, please tell me your unicorn is named after some awesome guy that Ms. Holliday chose over Mr. Shue."

"Huh?"

"Is he? Come on, spill," Santana said, stealing Jeremy from my arms and smacking him against me. "Who's this Jeremy guy?"

"Well, listen to the rest of the story, and you'll find out," I said, leaning forward and kissing her lightly on the nose. "So I met up again with Ms. Holliday later..."

_"I don't even remember learning this," I complained. Ms. Holliday was sitting across from me in an empty classroom, a large textbook unfolded in her lap. _

_ "I thought you weren't having trouble with math," she said, looking up from the page._

_ "I have trouble with everything. Just not as much trouble," I murmured. _

_ "It's okay. Some material just takes more time to figure out," she replied, furrowing her brow at the page. "It's been a long time since I've taught Geometry."_

_ "You do know it, though, right?"_

_ "Yes, I taught a math class a few times," Ms. Holliday said. I tilted my head to the side and she smiled politely. "At the school I used to work at before I came here. I was a substitute teacher for a bit."_

_ "Did you like that school?" _

_ "I don't know so much about the school," Ms. Holliday said, looking absentmindedly up at the ceiling. "They didn't distribute the school budget very well, and the principle was a little bonkers... but some of the staff members were nice. Definitely more interesting than the staff here."_

_ "What about the students?" I sat up a little, a little scared that Ms. Holliday would say she liked them better. Ravenswood was an all girl's academy and it was a lot different than regular schools. We were probably weirder, too._

_ "Well, some of them were great. Some of them... not so much. But let's focus on studying for your math test, okay?" Ms. Holliday shifted in her seat and looked back down at the book. "Alright, so... let's say..._ Jeremy_ has a sandbox-"_

_ "Why would your friend have a sandbox? Isn't he an adult?"_

_ "Just... pretend, Brittany," Ms. Holliday frowned. When I nodded, she continued. "So Jeremy has a rectangular sandbox that is six feet by four feet-"_

_ "That's not a very big sandbox-"_

_ "-And in the center of that sandbox is a square treasure chest," Ms. Holliday continued, ignoring my comment. "The chest has a side length of _x_ feet. How do you determine the area of the sandbox not including the treasure chest?"_

_"What's in the treasure chest?"_

_ "That's not important to the question."_

_ "But why does Jeremy have a treasure chest?"_

_ "I know you like to think outside of the box, but let's just focus on determining the area of the sandbox, okay?"_

_ I frowned and pulled out a sheet of paper. Ms. Holliday probably knew from years of teaching when a student was stalling. I didn't know how to figure out the area of the sandbox. Maybe drawing it would help. I drew a rectangle on the paper and wrote the number _six_ next to the long side and the number _four_ next to the short side. How big was the square treasure chest?_

_"What if the treasure chest was bigger than the sandbox?"_

_ "Then it wouldn't be _inside_ the sandbox. Make it smaller."_

_ "Okay," I mumbled, drawing two lines. "But does it have to be a square?"_

_ "Yes."_

_I drew the square in the center of the rectangle and frowned. I wasn't given the dimensions of the treasure chest, so I wrote an _x_ next to the height side of the square. I paused, and then smiled, writing another _x_ on the width side of the square. _

_ "Good," Ms. Holliday said reassuringly. "So how do we determine the size of the sandbox?"_

_ "We can't, we don't know what _x_ is," I frowned. _

_"But if you did, what would the equation be to figure it out?"_

_ I stared hard at the piece of paper. I needed to subtract the area of the square from the area of the rectangle. But in order to do that, I needed to know what _x_ was. But _x_ was just an unknown number. So if I determined area by multiplying the width and the height..._

_ "So you have to multiply four with six," I said, tapping the numbers with my pencil. I quickly scrawled a number next to the box. "Which is 24, of course. And then you'd have to subtract whatever _x _squared__ is."_

_ "Correct," Ms. Holliday cheered. "So now, if twenty-four minus x squared equals fifteen, what is _x_?"_

_ "Ms. Holliday," I whined. "That wasn't part of the original question."_

_ "It's a new question. Find _x_."_

_ I furrowed my brow and drew an equal sign after the equation I'd just written. 24 minus _x squared_ equals 15. So if the area without the square was _sixteen_, that meant that _x _squared had to be whatever was left over. So..._

_ "X__ squared equals 9, so then... if you find the square root of 9... _x_ equals 3__?" I looked expectantly up at Ms. Holliday. She smiled brightly and closed the textbook. _

_ "Yep," she laughed. "Alright, so moving on-"_

_ "What if the treasure chest wasn't square?" _

_ "What?"_

_ "If it was like... not a square. If it was a rectangle or something else."_

_ "You'd still determine the area of the quadrilateral and subtract it. It just might take more time to figure out," Ms. Holliday explained. "Even if it wasn't a quadrilateral, you could still figure it out."_

_ "So you just take the area of whatever the object is and subtract it," I nodded my head. "Okay. But why?"_

_ "I don't know, maybe Jeremy needs to bury the treasure chest or something." Ms. Holliday paused for a moment and then set the book aside. "Enough studying for now, its getting late. We still have a lot of things to work on. How is your dance routine going?"_

_"I'm okay with the ballet portion. It's the solo performance part I'm really having trouble with. Ms. Renner has been giving me suggestions, but she said I'm lacking the right... _passion_."_

_ "How so?" _

_"I don't really know. She said I know technique, but I'm not showing _me_ as a _dancer_," I replied, shrugging my shoulders weakly. "She said I need more work on figuring out my style."_

_ "There's not a lot of time for that," Ms. Holliday mumbled._

_ "No, there isn't," I sighed. "Dancing is the only thing I know how to do, Ms. Holliday. And I can't even do that right..."_

_"That's not true," Ms. Holliday said quickly. "You just have to showcase choreography that represents what dancing means to you. What does dancing mean to you, Brittany?"_

_ "...it's everything," I replied in a small voice that seemed strangely foreign to me. "It's self expression. It's the only way I know how to say what I want sometimes. I'm not good with words or anything like that. It's everything I am."_

_ "So then, I think you need to ask yourself: Who is Brittany?"_

* * *

><p>"She's is my amazingly hot and exceptionally talented girlfriend," Santana cooed, pecking my cheek with a quick kiss. "And I don't mean talented at dancing. I mean, you're <em>okay<em>, I guess."

"I wasn't always hot and talented," I laughed. "Or a great dancer."

"You're lying," Santana said, shaking her head. "You not being great at dancing is like..."

"You not being able to sing?" I asked. She paused with her mouth open for a moment before exhaling a small laugh.

"Truth be told, I didn't always sing." Santana nodded her head sheepishly. "I used to think it was really lame."

"You did?"

"Yeah... but that was before glee. And kind of during... Whatever. You were telling me about Jeremy."

"I was telling you about me," I corrected. "And Juilliard. And this time I went to a party-"

"-What does a party have to do with any of this?"

"Well..."

_"Why is Spears here?" _

_ "Because if she stays behind, she'll rat us out or something."_

_ "That's the problem with Ravenswood. Having roommates suck."_

_ I sat quietly on the couch in the poorly lit basement. My roommates and some of the other girls from Ravenswood had been talking all week about a party, and I'd asked if I could come. I had been struggling with coming up with new routines all week, and I really wanted to take a break. They said there would be guys and dancing, and I liked the kind of carefree dancing you could have at parties. But it was always difficult at the start of a party, when no one was dancing and everyone avoided me._

_ There was alcohol. I didn't know where it came from or who acquired it for the party. But it was there, so I had a red plastic cup in my hand. It didn't taste all that good, but I liked the way alcohol made me feel. People didn't seem to mind as much when I said weird things when I was drunk; they said weird things too._

_ I was lucky at parties. Guys were nicer to me than the girls were. I guess it was because they didn't go to our school or maybe that guys didn't care about rumors as much. After a while, I got up and started to dance with the small group that had formed, and one of them started to dance with me. He was smiling, and I was too, and everything just felt good about that moment. Dancing was super easy._

_ A lot of time passed. Or maybe not. At some point, the music stopped because someone was shouting about shots, and everyone started to scramble to get a glass. When the bottle was empty, one of the boys held it up in the air and declared a game of spin the bottle. Some people groaned, and others cheered. I was one of the people that cheered. Or laughed, anyway. I was really bubbly._

_ A small group of us gathered in a circle. I didn't recognize half of them, mostly because the ones I didn't know were boys. One of them had been dancing with me earlier, and he kept smiling at me. I smiled back. We took turns spinning the bottle, and the guy that I'd been dancing with landed on me. He grinned cheekily, and I saw him smack a high-five to another one of the guys quickly before he scooted towards me. I leaned over the bottle, and in seconds, his lips were on mine. It was hazy and a little sloppy. I couldn't really tell if it was because of me or him. When he drew back, he handed me the bottle. _

_ I had a little trouble not dropping the bottle, but I did manage to place it back on the ground and get it to spin. I quickly sat back and all eyes watched as it spun and spun and spun. Every time it happened, everyone got quiet. Or at least, those of us that were playing. It started to slow, and I was thankful, because I was getting dizzy. It came to a stop, and I followed the nose of the bottle up to its target. _

_ "Ohh!" some of the boys called. I smiled weakly up at the girl across from me. _

_ "Shit," my classmate breathed, her cheeks flushing instantly. I recognized her, but couldn't recall her name. We'd never really spoken, and I was thankful that at least she had never been mean to me. That I knew of, anyway. She glanced left and right, but everyone started to egg her on. I felt bad that she was getting so much attention, but I scrambled over the bottle so that it would be quick. It wasn't the first time any of us had kissed a girl. Maybe hers, but it happened sometimes, especially in this game. _

_ She was still blushing profusely when I leaned in to kiss her. I held for a second, about to pull away, when she kissed back. I almost smirked, but then there was a shout. At first, I thought it was just someone drunkenly rambling, but then everyone started scrambling around. There was more noise, and I snapped back._

_ "What the _hell_ is going on here__!__?"_

_"Crap, get out!"_

_ "Shit, hurry!"_

_ "Fuck, get up, get up!"_

_ I watched in panic as everyone, including the girl that had been kissing me, scrambled to their feet. Bottles were clinking, and bodies rushed from the room. I felt slow and dazed from the alcohol, and by the time I got to my feet, I was one of the only ones left in the room. Across from me, a woman was grabbing the jacket of one of the guys, but he tore from her grip and ran out of the room._

_ "Ms. Holliday...?"_

* * *

><p><em>"Jesus Christ, Brittany!" Ms. Holliday shouted, slamming her palm on her desk. "You could get <em>expelled_ for this!"_

_ My eyes were watering, and I was concentrating hard on the wood patterns of Ms. Holliday's desk. It was really hard for me to sit up straight without feeling like I was going to teeter over, but the angry look and sound of her voice made me rigid. _

_ I was going to get expelled. My dad was going to be furious. I wasn't going to graduate. I wasn't going to get the scholarship. I wasn't even going to get to compete. I just ruined everything._

_ "Why the _hell_ would you be off campus? _Drinking_ with all those people that are _mean_ to you?"_

_ "I d-don't know..." _

_ I started blubbering. Of all people, I didn't want Ms. Holliday to be disappointed in me too. She was the only one that believed in me at this school. Even Ms. Renner wouldn't help me if it was too inconvenient. I'd just done the worst thing._

_ "Stop crying," Ms. Holliday said, her voice softer than I expected. She stepped from behind her desk as I looked up through blurry tears, and knelt down in front of me. "Brittany, calm down-"_

_"M-My dad is g-gonna b-be s-so m-mad," I whimpered._

_ "Brittany, I'm not calling your dad," she said calmly. "Stop crying, it's okay."_

_ "Y-you're not?"_

_ "No, honey bee, I'm just glad you're okay," Ms. Holliday said, smiling weakly up at me. "Don't think I'm not still upset. This is serious. But my priority is to help you graduate, not get you expelled."_

_ Ms. Holliday sighed and scooted a chair around so that she could sit next to me. _

_ "You really need to be more careful," she said softly. "You don't even know some of those people. You should never drink in a setting like that."_

_ I sniffled and nodded my head. Ms. Holliday wasn't going to chastise me for drinking? And she wasn't going to call my dad? _

_ "What's worse is you were kissing strangers, Brittany," Ms. Holliday sighed, shaking her head. "If anyone were to take advantage of you int that sort of situation-"_

_ "-You saw?" My eyes widened with dread. It suddenly dawned on me that if Ms. Holliday hadn't burst into the party, that could have escalated. I didn't know the girl I was kissing. But even worse, I was afraid Ms. Holliday might hate me for it._

_ "...I saw enough," Ms. Holliday nodded, sheepishly bowing her head. "It's not important who you were kissing. It's that you're not in a state to make good decisions right now, honey bee. It doesn't matter if it was a boy or a girl, Brittany, it matters that you are safe. And that wasn't a smart decision."_

_ "Y-you think I'm s-stupid too," I stammered through sniffles. _

_ "Brittany, come on," Ms. Holliday sighed. "I don't think you're stupid. How much did you drink?"_

_ I shook my head and mumbled that I didn't know. Ms. Holliday nodded and grabbed my arm as she stood up. I stared up at her in confusion, and before I knew it, she was helping me put on my coat._

_ "I can't take you to your dorm without getting you in trouble, and it would be wildly inappropriate to take you to my apartment," Ms. Holliday sighed. "Lucky for you, you're blonde, so if I take you to a 24 hour diner, people will just think you're my daughter."_

* * *

><p><em>I sat sheepishly across from Ms. Holliday at a small diner just outside the neighboring area of the school. She had ordered me a huge plate of fries that I was picking at, and even let me order a strawberry milkshake. <em>

_ "Why do you care so much, Ms. Holliday?" I asked quietly. I hadn't spoken since we ordered our food, and I'd been sitting silently for a good fifteen or twenty minutes while Ms. Holliday was looking through her phone. She glanced up at me and set the phone on the table. I caught a flash of a photo album before the screen went black._

_ "Any other teacher would have written me up and sent me to the dean," I continued. "I messed up."_

_ "I told you before, I'm not here to punish you," Ms. Holliday said, taking a sip from her own milkshake. "I came to Ravenswood to make a difference. I made a commitment to myself to do my best to help students, and Brittany, I am not going to give up on you."_

_ "Ms. Holliday..."_

_ "Do you know how many troubled kids there are in the world?" Ms. Holliday said, grabbing a fry from my plate and pointing at me. "I've been there. I might not have had to deal with the constant bullying or threats that kids nowadays go through, but there is nothing wrong with being shy, timid, or a little weird."_

_ She dipped her fry into her milkshake and shook it at me. _

_ "But do you know what would have helped me as a kid in high school? If just one person had told me, 'hey, I'm weird too,'" she continued. "One person, to reach out and help me. That's all it takes. At a public school, do you know how rare that is?"_

_ I nodded slowly. I did. I was supposed to go to a public school in Lima before I transferred to Ravenswood. My mom didn't like the idea that there was a forty to one classroom size, and that I was already struggling enough in middle school. For someone to notice me, it took years of bullying. Nothing could stop it once it started.__Except running away._

_ I looked up just as Ms. Holliday popped the milkshake covered fry into her mouth. _

_ "So here's the deal, Brittany," Ms. Holliday said, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. "You're going to graduate. We're going to Chicago, and you are going to perform your Juilliard audition. You are going to get into that school if it's the last thing I do. Because I am not giving up on you, and I am not going to let you give up on yourself."_

_ "...I wasn't giving up on myself," I murmured._

_"Then _why_ were you drinking with the people that bully you?"_

_"I don't know what to do for my dance performance," I said._

_ "I don't understand the connection," Ms. Holliday replied, furrowing her brow._

_ "You said I have to figure out who I am. Even the audition has an interview part about who I am outside of dancing. I don't have an answer! I'm just a dancer! I'm nothing but someone who knows how to _move_," I practically shouted. I was gripping the edge of the table so hard that my knuckles were white. I felt hot tears flowing back down my cheeks, and this time, I was more embarrassed that I was crying in front of Ms. Holliday. She had all these goals and knew enough about all these different subjects to teach them. If I could do one thing, it would be to teach someone to dance. But there was nothing special about the way I moved. The way I danced. I didn't have substance. I was an _empty_ shell. _

_ "I thought... I thought maybe going to the party would help," I said, tilting my head to the side. "I've been wracking my brain over it all week. I keep trying, but nothing I come up with is any good. I keep messing up." _

_ "You are more than just a dancer, honey bee," Ms. Holliday said reassuringly. "And you don't need a wild, crazy weekend to try to define who you are. There are more things you are good at. You're an exceptional writer. You know that, right?"_

_I sniffled and looked up at her._

_ "The essay I assigned to you last week? The journalism report? You wrote about that injured turtle that your mom is helping rehabilitate."_

_ "Tortoise, actually," I murmured._

_ "It was really interesting," Ms. Holliday said. "You didn't need to include the photographs, but those were cool, too."_

_ " I thought you wanted it to look like a newspaper article." I shifted in my seat._

_ "Sure," Ms. Holliday laughed. "But you're good at those things too. Did you take the pictures yourself?"_

_ "I had to take like fifty pictures," I said, smiling weakly. "Which is kind of silly, considering how slowly a tortoise moves..."_

_ "You took a great photo," Ms. Holliday replied. "And what makes up you isn't just the things you're good at, Brittany. You're ...a daughter. A sister."_

_ "I'm a good sister," I said, smiling. "I think I am, anyway."_

_ "I think you are," Ms. Holliday laughed. I smiled and picked up a fry._

_ "Does that taste good?"_

_ "What?" Ms. Holliday followed the direction of the fry that I pointed at her milkshake. She'd been dipping fries into her shake all night._

_ "Oh, yeah, it's weird. Try it," she said happily. She smiled at me as I scooped up a generous amount of milkshake onto my fry and quickly caught it all in my mouth. I wrinkled my nose at first, but then shared a toothy grin._

_ "Weeeird," I laughed._

_ "Definitely," Ms. Holliday said. "But still good, right?"_

_ "Yeah," I said while chewing. _

* * *

><p><em>"Thanks," I said, once I'd buckled my seatbelt. Ms. Holliday had just turned on her car.<em>

_ "For what?"_

_ "For taking me to get french fries. And just being awesome," I said, smiling weakly._

_ "Just don't do something like that again," Ms. Holliday replied. "I won't always be around to bail you out."_

_ "I know," I said, nodding quietly. She shifted the gears to her car and slowly backed out of the parking lot of the diner. Ms. Holliday's radio was playing softly, and I almost fell asleep. I felt a little groggy, but definitely not as hazy and dizzy as I had been earlier. It was a little weird that Ms. Holliday had sat with me the whole time, but I was super glad that it had been her that found me and not someone else._

_ "Are you going to be okay?" Ms. Holliday asked, breaking the silence._

_ "Hm?"_

_ "With your dance thing," Ms. Holliday said, glancing at me from her steering wheel. "You were thinking a lot about what it meant to be a dancer."_

_ "I hope I figure it out," I sighed. "I'm not sure I will in time."_

_ "Do you know what's amazing about dancers?" Ms. Holliday asked. "It's that human beings are amazing. They are capable of so many things. Even if you don't think you're special or important because of it, you have a talent and a skill that not everyone can do._

_ "Dancers move, twist and curve in a way that is beautiful. When I think about beauty, I think about a lot of things. Dancing is one of them," Ms. Holliday said. "Dancers can captivate and capture brilliance on their own, but it's even more amazing when two people dance together. It's like love in a physical, tangible form."_

_ "I don't really know what that would be like," I said softly._

_ "You're young, you wouldn't know it if it bit you in the _ass_," Ms. Holliday laughed._

_"Maybe," I chuckled. "But I think I know what you mean. When I dance with someone, it's like nothing else matters."_

_ "Any someone in particular?" Ms. Holliday asked jokingly._

_ "No..." I trailed off. My cheeks felt a little warmer now, though, as I recalled that Ms. Holliday had seen me kissing that girl. She didn't seem to care, which was surprising for me. Everyone else at the school judged me for my sexual exploits, but I guess Ms. Holliday had already proven she wasn't like everyone else._

_ "Ms. Holliday... is it okay to like... kissing?" I asked cautiously. I bit my lip and then added, "Without really caring about if it's a boy or a girl?"_

_ I felt the car slow down as we approached a street light. Ms. Holliday paused a moment before glancing at me quickly and then back up at the windshield._

_ "I don't get to decide that for you, Brittany," Ms. Holliday said cautiously. _

_ "Does it make me weird for liking both?"_

_ Ms. Holliday let out a loud sigh, and shook her head slowly._

_ "Brittany, sexuality is one of the many, many characteristics that make up who you are. It doesn't make you a good or bad person. You don't have to let one thing define you as anything. It's just one of the more prominent characteristics that society tends to objectify."_

_ I continued staring at her until she glanced at me and furrowed her brow._

_ "Is this about earlier?"_

_ "I don't know," I said with a shrug. "I'm just sort of confused about it. I wasn't before, because I like kissing. It's fun."_

_ "Sure," Ms. Holliday. "Nothing wrong with that."_

_ "But then... I thought about like... _me_. I mean, who am I?" I frowned, and stared at my hands. "And I know now that a person is made up of a lot of things, but I agree with what you said about dancing. I like dancing with other people. It's like... it's intimate. It doesn't matter to me if it's with a boy or a girl, it just matters if I can sync up with them. Dancing is really... sensual, you know? It's all body."_

_ "If you don't mind who your dance partner is, then I don't think anyone else should have a say in that, Brittany," Ms. Holliday said. _

_ "But what does that make me?" I asked, looking up from my knees. _

_ "It can mean a number of things, Brittany," Ms. Holliday replied. "You don't have to conform to any ideal."_

_ "Then why does everyone make a big deal about it?" I shifted uncomfortably in my seat._

_ "Brittany, if you want to identify as gay or bi, that's your choice," Ms. Holliday said. "The important thing is that you are _you_, and that you don't try to change who you are because of what other people think. I doubt there is a right way to determine if you are gay, straight, or anything in between." _

_ I nodded slowly. I guess that made sense. _

_ "It might seem hard for other people when they can't identify something. Remember the other day, when we were working on your math homework, and you asked about the treasure chest—why did it have to be a square? The truth is, it _doesn't_._

_"Some people really need to know, and they get confused if you can't clearly define what you are. Like how you were confused, because that information was important to figuring out the equation. Saying, 'I'm a rectangle, not a square,' and people understand what that means. They know what the differences are._

_ "But when you say, 'I'm a quadrilateral,' people ask you__,__ what kind__?__. Which one? A square or a rectangle?" Ms. Holliday paused. "You might not know. Maybe you're a parallelogram, but maybe you're something more complicated. A rhombus. Who knows. Even though it shouldn't be, it's difficult; whether it's a type of quadrilateral or a type of sexuality, you often feel the need to label yourself just so that other people can understand you. For some reason, you can't just have four points and you can't _just_ be a person that happens to have interest in other human beings. You have to be _something_ so that people can identify what you are. Does that make sense?"_

_"No... not really, Ms. Holliday. You lost me with all the math stuff," I replied sheepishly._

_ "It's not about who you are attracted to ultimately," Ms. Holliday said, a small smile forming on her lips. "It's about who you fall in love with. And there isn't a label for _love_."_

* * *

><p><em>"Ms. Holliday, I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this," I said in rapid succession as I paced back and forth. We were outside auditorium that the Juilliard Auditions were being held. "Why can't you at least sit in? That's not fair."<em>

_ "It's fine, I wouldn't be able to help you anyway. Just because I'm not going to be sitting in the risers doesn't mean I'm not cheering for you. You can do this," Ms. Holliday said, placing her hand on my shoulder as I passed her and forcing me to stop pacing._

_ "I can't," I whined._

_ "Alright," Ms. Holliday said, releasing her grip on my shoulder. "Come on then. Let's get back in the car."_

_ "Ms. Holliday!"_

_ "What? Do you want to do this, or not? I'm not going to wait around for you to make your decision, and neither is Juilliard."_

_ I bit my lip, hesitating a moment longer before nodding my head. _

_ "I'm going to do it."_

_ "Good, now go inside and warm up," she said._

_ "What are you going to do while I'm at my audition? What if I don't get past the first round and you're already with Jeremy?"_

_ "Who?"_

_ "Your friend," I said, furrowing my brow._

_ "Oh, yeah, it'll be fine, Brittany. You're going to get past the first stage of the audition. You're going to make it through all the way to the end. And even if, by some crazy turn of events, you don't make it, I will come and pick you up and we'll go home. Don't worry about Jeremy."_

_ "Tell him I said thank you, again. And that he shouldn't bury a treasure chest in a sandbox."_

_ "...Right, kiddo," Ms. Holliday nodded. "Just go in there and sweep them off their feet."_

* * *

><p><em>I sat nervously waiting in the back with very few of the remaining applicants. After four of the five portions of the audition, we were all that was left. My heart almost hurt from how hard it had been beating every time I had been sent back to wait. If I didn't get a call back, at any given time, it was over. I rested my head on my knees, staring through the small space between them at my ankles. All that was left was the interview. My dance had gone well, I thought. I hadn't messed up. But that didn't mean anything; they could still chose someone else over me. Even if I got to go on with the process, if I didn't get the scholarship, it was all for nothing.<em>

_ What was I doing? I was wasting someone's space to be able to apply. Someone that could actually afford it. What if I didn't get the scholarship, but I had to decline entry? God, like I was even going to get past the interview anyway. I had no idea what sort of questions they were going to ask, and I was terrified of stumbling over my words. I wasn't good at saying things out loud. _

_ "Ms. Pierce."_

_ I lifted my head from my knees and looked up quickly to see a severe looking woman that was holding a clipboard. She gestured for me to take the stage, and I gulped. I made it to the final portion of the audition?_

_ Even though my legs felt like jello, I somehow made my way to the center of the stage. I stood alone, lit up brightly by a spotlight, out at a nearly empty auditorium. There were a few school representatives, but the woman in the center seat had made it clear that she was the one that would make final decisions. Ms. Sayers, as she had introduced herself. _

_ "Ms. Pierce," Ms. Sayers said, lifting a piece of paper from the folder in front of her. Her voice didn't carry a lot of volume, but in the silence of the auditorium, it was deafening._

_ "Based on your performance today, having made it this far, I think it's obvious you can conclude that your ballet and modern technique meets our minimum standards," Ms. Sayers said. "I'd like you to explain why you chose to choreograph your own routine rather than perform a pre constructed one. I'd venture it's safe to assume you were aware that both were an option."_

_ I waited a second, and she closed the folder to look up at me. _

_ "Yes," I said, nodding once. "I... I chose to use my own choreography because the other three portions of the audition were predetermined repertory sequences. I thought by doing my own choreography, I would be able to better express myself."_

_ "And what, exactly, was it that you wanted to express?"_

_ "I..." I paused. She was very serious, in both her expression and wording. It was a bit unnerving. I did my best to hold my gaze as I straightened. _

_ "Emotion. I think dancing is the way I'm best able to communicate that," I said earnestly. _

_ "And what are your professional goals?"_

_ "My professional goals are... well, I'd like to do choreography. I'm not sure what emphasis yet, but I hope that Juilliard can help me figure that out."_

_ "Very well," Ms. Sayers said as she scrawled something in the folder. I waited to be addressed again._

_ "Outside of dancing, Ms. Pierce, what are your personal goals?"_

_ "Well, I'd love to travel," I said. "I've never really been out of Ohio. But I think personal goals are more something that extends from the heart. So I want to... I want to do what I love to do. I want happiness, in whatever form that might be."_

_ "Is that all?"_

_ "I think so," I nodded. "I'm really open. Exploring the world and learning new things. Maybe eat some good food along the way."_

_ "I see," Ms. Sayers nodded, smiling weakly. "How long have you been dancing, Ms. Pierce?"_

_ "Since I could start walking," I laughed. "But I started taking lessons when I was four."_

_ "Your current academic institution... have you had any stage performances?"_

_ Ms. Sayers drilled me on question after question. If I'd ever had any injuries, what sort of thing I did if I was stressed. She asked me just as many questions that had nothing to do with dancing as she asked me ones that did. By the end of the interview, I wasn't sure if I had answered the questions all wrong or if she was just a curious person._

_ "Lastly, Ms. Pierce, why do you think you should be considered for our scholarship opportunities?" Ms. Sayers asked. "You wrote about your financial circumstances, but what puts you above the bar?" _

_ "My whole life, everyone else has told me what I can't do. I don't want to let other people define me," I said, inhaling deeply. "But...I believe that exceptional people... come from some of the most unexceptional places."_

* * *

><p><em> "How did it go?" Ms. Holliday asked cautiously as I walked out of the auditorium.<em>

_ "I don't know," I said, a little dazed. "They're going to send out letters. By April."_

_ "That's a long time to sit on our hands," Ms. Holliday said, biting her lip._

_ "But I got to the end. I got to the end, and I didn't get cut," I said quickly._

_ "That's great," Ms. Holliday said. "That's the best we can hope for, right?"_

_ "Yeah," I nodded slowly. _

_ Ms. Holliday offered to take me to get dinner before we drove home. We grabbed fast food to go, opting to get back on the road before it got too late. I noticed Ms. Holliday's car was in the same space in the parking garage as it was when we came in. As I buckled my seatbelt, I looked up at her._

_ "__What did you do while I was at my audition?"_

_ "Oh, you know," Ms. Holliday waved her hand. "Just hung out for a bit. Went to the library and got something to eat."_

_ "Was it a date?" I shifted in my seat to look up at her. She froze as the car slowed to a stop at the exit of the parking garage._

_ "With Jeremy," I continued. "Isn't it hard to talk at a library?"_

_ "Oh, well, you know," Ms. Holliday shrugged. "He's not exactly a very talkative guy-"_

_ "Ms. Holliday, Jeremy isn't real, is he?"_

_ "...No, he isn't."_

* * *

><p>"Then who the heck is Jeremy?" Santana asked.<p>

"He's not a real person," I said, patting him softly on the head. "Not originally. He was more like an idea at the time."

"When did you actually get him?"

"You don't care about my audition?" I stared at Santana a moment and she bowed her head.

"I do, I just already know the outcome..."

"But you also know that I have Jeremy and that he is real."

"True," she laughed, nestling into me. "Continue."

_"I got in!" I screamed. I had been waiting forever and a half with the letter shaking in my hand until Allie almost tore it from my grip. I was home for the weekend, and I'd been calling her every day asking if a letter had arrived for me or not. _

_ "I got in!" I repeated, my voice shrill as I hopped up and down._

_ "Got in where?" My mom poked her head out from the laundry room. _

_ "Mom, mom," I said quickly running over to give her a hug. "I got in, I got in! I need to call Ms. Holliday! I got in!"_

_ I scampered off, rushing as quickly as I could to our land line. Allie shook her head at me from the counter of the kitchen. _

_ "What's going on?" my dad asked as I nearly bumped into him. I jumped up and gave him a kiss on the cheek before twirling around again._

_ "Brittany got into Juilliard," Allie explained, in as monotone a voice as possible. I swatted my hand at her as the phone toned in my ear. _

_ "What?" My dad said, eyes widening._

_ "Sh!" I snapped._

"Hello?"

_"Ms. Holliday! I got in!" I shrieked. "I got in, I got in to Juilliard!"_

"What?! Brittany! That's awesome! Congratulations!"

_ "She got in where?" I heard my mom ask from across the room._

"What's the letter say?"

_"Hold on, I'm going to put you on speaker phone-" I said quickly and tried to flatten the paper in my hands. I cursed inwardly when I saw that I'd been gripping it so hard that I crinkled the one corner. _

_ "Dear Ms. Brittany Pierce," I announced. "'Based upon the recommendation of the faculty, I am pleased to inform you that you have been admitted to The Juilliard School as a major in dance. Upon your arrival, you will be assigned an advisor to help you in planning your course of study. The audition also serves as a means of identifying award recipients. Scholarship notifications will be distributed beginning on April 1st.' It goes on to give contact information."_

"I'm so proud of you, honey bee."

_ "What does this mean?" My mom asked. "You got in? When did you even apply?"_

_ I squealed excitedly in response._

"Hello? Mrs. Pierce?"

_ "Yes, this is she," my mom said as she snatched the phone out of my hands while I jumped forward to grab Allie's hands and dance around the kitchen with her. _

"My name is Holly Holliday, I'm Brittany's English and History teacher."

_ "I remember. You came to visit with Brittany's car."_

"Right. Brittany wanted to apply, but she was scared of not getting in, so we worked on the application together."

_ "Don't those sort of applications cost money?"_

"Brittany used her Christmas money for the application. She also paid for gas when I took her to Chicago for the audition-"

_ "Chicago?!" My dad roared. I stopped dancing immediately. "You went to Chicago without telling us?"_

"I was more than happy to take her to the audition, Mr. Pierce. In retrospect, I do think she should have informed you. I apologize if I overstepped my boundaries-"

_ "Ms. Holliday, we are more than happy that you helped Brittany with her application," my mom said, giving my dad a stern glare. "Honestly, I don't think we would have been as much help with an application to an arts school. But Ms. Holliday... we can't afford to send her to that school-"_

_ "To hell with that," my dad barked. "We'll figure something out."_

_ "I applied for a scholarship," I squeaked, quietly. _

_ "There we go," my dad beamed with a wave of his hand._

"There's no guarantee-"

_ "Ms. Holliday, you'll come over to celebrate, won't you?" I pleaded._

"I-"

_ "Oh, you really should," my mom said. "Why don't we all go out to dinner?"_

_ "Please, Ms. Holliday? Please?" Even my sister joined me on the second please._

"I suppose if you insist."

_ "This is like the best day ever," I shouted happily._

* * *

><p>"So she gave him to you at the dinner?" Santana sat up quickly. "That doesn't make any sense."<p>

"Why not?" I asked. "I mean, she didn't, but why couldn't she have?"

"There's more to it," Santana said. She furrowed her brow and mumbled quietly, "you got him here, when you were in New York..."

"Hm?" I sat up and wrapped my arm around her. "What was that?"

"Nothing, just," Santana paused to shake her head, "Is that the end of the story?"

"Nope," I chirped.

_It was the worst day ever. I dragged my feet as I trudged down the bustling street. I still hadn't figured out the subway system, but my mom called and said I had to pick up my mail from the P.O. box we'd set up before I moved. I'd accidentally applied at the wrong post office, so I had quite a few blocks to walk to find it without the subway. But I was glad to be out of my dorm._

_ I'd gotten the scholarship and I thought I was golden, but somehow rumors had already started about me. I didn't get how anyone even knew who I was. I was okay with the post it notes on my door, and even the guys making cat calls at me from the room down the hall, but I'd come home to my whole bed tee-pee'd in toilet paper after I got back from the bookstore. It took me two hours just to get it all down, and my roommate just sat on her side of the room ignoring me. _

_ Juilliard was supposed to be different, and I still had some hope. Classes were starting soon, and not everyone that went to the school lived in my dorm building, right? I just hoped I would be able to make friends soon. It was lonely not even having Allie or Ms. Holliday to talk to._

_ My postal box had a letter from my mom in it, along with a sizable, but light package. I shook it to see if I could feel what was inside, but nothing moved. I didn't want to open it there, but the label said that it was from Ms. Holliday. That made me feel better instantly. _

_ Maybe I would take the subway home. I was really excited about my package, and I wanted to open it as soon as possible. That could make it faster, but I really didn't know which stops went where. It took me ten minutes in front of the map to determine the right colored line, but even after I got on the subway, I wasn't sure how to tell what stops were what. Not to mention it was crowded, and I couldn't get a seat._

_ It was hard trying to balance my mail in my arm and hold onto the overhead rail at the same time. Sure enough, when the subway jostled to a halt, I stumbled forward and the box toppled out of my hands._

_ "Watch it," the woman I dropped it on snapped._

_ "S-sorry," I mumbled, quickly taking the box. Several people got off at the stop, and I was careful not to get too close to the woman I'd nearly squished. I glanced out the window to try to catch the station name and cursed under my breath when I missed it. I had no idea how many more stops there were._

_ "It's the next stop," the woman said, and I glanced at her. She looked up at me through sunglasses. "72nd street. The next stop."_

_ "How did you-?"_

_"Your lanyard," the woman said, pointing to my neck. "Juilliard, it's the next stop."_

_ "Thank you," I said sheepishly. _

_ "Mm," she nodded, looking back down as she adjusted a small stack of books in her lap._

_ It was only a few more moments before the subway stopped again, and I was pushed and shoved to the exit. I didn't mind, though. I was more than happy to rush; the faster I got up to my room, the sooner I could open my mail._

_ I flashed my ID to the guard of the Rose Building and practically bounced up and down the whole elevator ride up to the 7th floor. I raced to my room and fumbled with my key, even happier when I was greeted to an empty and toilet-paper free room. I guess my roommate had gone to get dinner. I plopped onto my bed and tore my fingers at the package. It was hard to do, since my nails were short from always biting them. After a momentary struggle, the box burst open._

_ Purple and pink fuzz was the first thing I saw as I did my best to unwedge the plush animal from it's cardboard prison. I kicked the box away and held up a smiley, happy looking unicorn. A tiny piece of paper dropped from it as I lifted it up, and I set the unicorn down in my lap as I picked up the paper._

Honey bee,

I heard you were missing home. You just got there. Things will get better, just give it time. Good friends are never easy to find, but you meet them in unexpected places. Remember that. Focus on school and don't let anyone get in the way of that. You worked too hard to get there.

I know it's hard to be so far away from home without anyone to lean on, so I thought I'd send a little bit of home to you. It's not much, but sometimes a little cuddle buddy is all you need.

Lots of love,

Holly Holliday

P.S. - Maybe Jeremy is real.

_ I smiled, quickly lifting my hand to wipe my eyes before looking back down at the unicorn. _

_ "It's nice to meet you, Jeremy," I whispered._

* * *

><p>I was lying on my back and staring up at the sky from the center of the rooftop. Santana was nestled into my side; she had protested coming up to the rooftop, but was now as content as a kitten. I glanced over to her as she latched her fingers around Jeremy's fluffy mane and brought his muzzle up to her lips. She gave him a soft and delicate kiss like the one I'd made her give him so many nights ago.<p>

"Thank you," she whispered quietly. I wasn't sure if she said it to him or to me for sharing the story. I didn't have a chance to ask, because suddenly she sat up and was kissing my lips.

"I can't believe you told Ms. Holliday you liked girls when you were drunk," she giggled, staring down at me as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

"After everything I said, all you care about is that?"

"No," Santana said, pecking my lips softly. "I care about all of it. It's just amusing."

"I guess it is a little funny," I said with a smile. "In retrospect. Way after the fact. When I'm not crying about almost getting expelled."

"I'm very glad you didn't."

"Me too," I nodded. She settled back down, resting her head against my neck and nuzzling it softly.

"Thank you, Brittany," she said quietly.

"Huh?" This time she was definitely addressing me. "For what?"

"Not once did you ever think it was wrong to be with me. Because I'm a girl," she said with a small sigh. "And you're so patient, too."

"I don't think I'm patient at all."

"You are," Santana whispered. "Everything but you is always moving so fast, Brittany. With you, I just get to breathe."

"I think it's the opposite for me," I murmured. "Sometimes I forget to."

We laid on the rooftop a little bit longer. She'd eaten most of the breakfast that Quinn had cooked. Not without trying to feed me too throughout the story, of course. It was pleasant, but neither of us seemed to notice that the clouds that had been up in the sky above us were growing darker. For some reason, I just thought it was late in the day. Santana was playfully kissing over my cheek and playing with my hands when drops of wetness hit my face.

"Hm?" I lifted my head a little away from Santana as another drop hit the bridge of my nose and slid down to my eye. I winced, and pulled a hand free from Santana's to touch my dampened face. She smiled at me, twisting to wipe the raindrop away.

"Is it...?" She paused and looked up. More drops of water started to speckle both our faces, and surely our clothes too.

"I guess they don't say April showers for nothing," I grinned, craning forward to catch her lips again. I squeezed my hands at her hips, tugging her closer. She giggled into kissing me, lifting both her hands to the sides of my face. It was a wet kiss, but not just because of the rain. I was really enjoying her crawling on top of me, even as the rain picked up. It was cool, but not cold, against my skin. Besides, I was plenty warm from Santana.

She stopped kissing me as I peppered kisses down her jawline and to her neck, inhaling deeply through my nose because the smell of the rain was wonderful. She giggled and laughed as I playfully dug my fingers into her waist. I heard a smack of her palm against the wet concrete by my face and she gasped.

"Britt," she giggled. I grinned and dragged my tongue up her wet neck. "B-Britt, Jeremy's getting soaked."

"Huh?" I leaned my head back, staring upside down above my head where Santana must have set Jeremy. His purple fur was flattened against his body in wet clumps, and his horn was drooping a bit because of the rain.

"He'll dry," I said, flicking my eyes back up to Santana. Her lower lip was puffed out, and before I could kiss her again, she was scrambling off of me. "Santana, it's just rain."

"It's gonna mess up his fur," she muttered, hugging him close to her body as she huddled over him.

"Do you want to take him inside?" I asked, sitting up. She nodded, moving her hand to make Jeremy nod his head too. They both looked a little pathetic. And cold. I scrambled up and grabbed her hand.

"What about the plates-"

"I'll get it later, come on," I said, tugging her closer. She squished Jeremy between us as I planted a wet kiss on her forehead. "I don't want you getting sick again."

I pulled her towards the fire escape ladder, but she hesitated at the wall.

"Do you want me to take Jeremy so you can use both hands?" I asked as I swung my leg over the ladder. She shook her head and tucked him under her arm.

"I'm okay," she said.

"Be careful," I said as I got to the base of the stairs and stepped back. "It's slippery."

"W-wanky," Santana muttered sheepishly. I smiled and held my arms out wide as she lowered down the metal ladder in case she lost her grip. The rain was really starting to come down.

"Shit, we're soaked."

"Little bit," I laughed as I pulled her close. We huddled next to the wall, and I inched us towards the window.

"Britt, we're gonna get your bed all messy," Santana said when I stopped to open the window. I paused and stared at my bed through the window. Either way, we would be trudging, sopping wet, into our bedrooms and through the entirety of our apartment just to get to the washroom.

"One more down then? We can get in through the dining room window, right?"

"Yeah," Santana muttered nervously. I clasped her hand in mine and carefully tugged her forward. The stairwell down wasn't vertical like the ladder up, so it wasn't going to be as dangerous. There was also a handrail.

"It's okay, I've got you," I said, holding her hand the whole way down. She almost tripped, but I caught her and held her tightly in my arms for a moment. She clenched her eyes shut for a second, and I kissed her cheek. I backed up and guided us back to the dining room window, grinning and pecking kisses to her face so that she wouldn't think about looking down. She leaned into me as I fumbled with the window behind my back. It wasn't opening.

Santana wrapped her arm around my neck as I smacked the window with my palm, trying to catch the glass and slide it up. But all the rain made it too slippery to catch.

"Shoot," I muttered.

"Are we stuck out here?" Santana whispered.

"N-no, of course not," I said, glancing back as best I could to look through the window. Maybe someone was in the living room or kitchen. I tapped my fingernails against the glass.

"We _are_ stuck," Santana murmured. I felt her squeeze Jeremy closer to us. It didn't help that he was a pillow pet, because squeezing him was like squeezing a sponge. Fortunately, or not so fortunately, we were already soaked to the bone. I leaned forward and kissed her, reassuringly.

"We'll get inside," I said softly.

"What if we don't?" Santana's lower lip trembled as she spoke. I did my best to smile.

"Then we'll live on the roof," I laughed, hugging her tightly. "It's okay, we'll get inside."

Santana nodded slowly and bit her lip. I kept tapping my fingers against the glass, but stopped for a second when she buried her face into my neck. She made a tiny sound that made my heart hurt. It might have been a whimper, but I wasn't entirely sure. I scraped my hand back against the glass, trying again to slide it open. To my surprise, it did.

"What are you two doing?" Quinn's voice said from inside. Santana peeled her face away from my neck and we both quickly scrambled to get inside. I let Santana crawl in first, and noticed any fear previously on her face had been replaced with a scowl.

"What does it look like we were doing?" Santana snapped, twisting to help me inside. I stumbled into her, and she wrapped her arm around my neck again. I was a bit startled when she kissed me, hard.

"Mm...! Santana," I breathed, still a bit unsure of my footing.

"Are you fucking serious?" Quinn growled. Santana smirked and then latched her lips to my neck as she stepped backwards. Without looking, Santana slapped a drenched Jeremy into Quinn's palms. I tried to give her a sympathetic smile while stumbling forward.

"What the hell-"

"S-sorry," I stammered as Santana tugged me towards the washroom. Quinn held Jeremy at arms length and wrinkled her nose at how wet he was. I didn't think she could look any more disgusted, but then she looked up and saw where we were going and her face went from shocked to horrified.

"You two are not-"

Santana pulled away from me just long enough to smirk at Quinn and stick her tongue out before pushing me into the washroom. I laughed as she twisted and caught my lips in hers again, pushing me up against the door as she slammed it shut. God, that was fast.

_"We had an agreement_," Quinn shouted from the other side of the door. Santana had already slipped her hands up my shirt, and I really wasn't going to protest.

"You said anywhere that doesn't have a closed door," Santana snapped as she tore away from me. She smacked her palm against the door. "Look, a door."

_ "I said not the kitchen, not the living room or-"_

"Oh boo, like I care," Santana said before re-attaching herself to my neck. I tried not to gasp, but it was _so_ hard. She kissed her way back up to my mouth and grinned at me happily. It was such a relief that she wasn't making sad faces anymore, even if it was just because she was scared of being stuck on the fire escape. I smiled back, lifting my hand to cup her cheek. I nuzzled her nose gently with mine before kissing her lips. I knew she was just trying to save face with Quinn, but it was cute.

_"What the hell am I supposed to do with this unicorn?"_

Santana and I broke from kissing to snort with laughter.

"Should we take him back?"

"I think she could use the company," Santana giggled.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This should have been two chapters, but I am like dead set on finishing at 50. Sorry for its length, if you get annoyed by that. But you shouldn't be, because it's just like two chapters in one, right? I wonder if you'll catch all the hints I dropped and references I made. :D**

**EDIT: Omg, I am so embarrassed I did the math wrong. ;_; I fixed it, I think. Wow, that was a huge fail on my part. **


	43. The Fool

Santana and I had tried to hold out as long as we could, but by the end of the week, it was becoming apparent that we were going to starve if we didn't go grocery shopping. Santana sat slumped at the kitchen island counter with her arms spread across the ceramic tiling. She was tapping her fingers at the edge of Rachel's plate of noodles until Rachel slid it further out of her reach. I glanced back from the pantry, smiling weakly as Quinn swatted Santana on the forehead.

"You are the laziest person in the world, Santana Lopez," Quinn said as she walked between us to the refrigerator. "If you're so hungry, make yourself something to ea-"

Quinn gaped at the open and nearly empty refrigerator. I shut the door to the pantry and leaned against the door, crossing my arms over my chest as I looked expectantly at her.

"We don't even have bread," I said. "Including Rachel's weird bread."

"You ate my bread?" Rachel snapped, dropping her fork on the plate.

"It was so _gross_," Santana groaned, rolling her face against the countertop. "We tried everything. Peanut butter, jelly, not even Nutella made it taste edible. And Nutella makes _everything_ good."

Rachel's mouth hung open as she stared incredulously at Santana while Quinn rolled her eyes. She stepped forward and opened what I affectionately referred to as the 'everything' drawer. We had one at my house, and I assumed everyone had a drawer like it with all the random things that didn't have a specific place. Quinn somehow managed to keep it fairly organized, though. She pulled out a pad of paper and a few pens.

"I guess we all have to go shopping," Quinn sighed. The top page of the notepad was covered in doodles and notes, and it half of it looked like Santana's hand writing. There were a few stars on the page and one corner had a bunch of numbers written down on it. While I was intrigued by what was written on the page, I wasn't able to read much of it before Quinn flipped the page over to a clean slate and wrote _grocery list_ at the top.

"I hate making lists with you two," Santana grumbled.

"It's not like we enjoy it anymore than you do," Quinn sneered.

"Do we just get groceries for the whole apartment?" I asked, moving between them. Quinn had told me when I first moved in that they shared food as long as everything was replaced, but I hadn't gone shopping with them collectively before.

"Yeah, generally we each pitch in," Quinn said.

"Except Rachel," Santana said, tilting her head to glance up at me with her cheek still pressed against the counter. "She buys weird food, so she gets her own cart and bill."

"My food is not _weird_," Rachel said, slapping Santana's outstretched arm. Santana recoiled, and pouted up at me.

"Nothing wrong with being weird," I said, smiling at Rachel. "But your food doesn't taste good sometimes."

"If you stopped stealing my food, you wouldn't have to worry about that," Rachel snapped, smacking her palm against the counter.

"I'll pay for a loaf of weird bread then," I said, grabbing a pen from the pile of them on the table. I quickly scribbled on the side of the page, and Quinn swatted my hand.

"Rachel owes me for groceries, anyway," Quinn said, arching her brow at Rachel for a moment before returning to her very organized list on the side. She had already started listing necessary items. "Check the freezer for vegetables and ground beef. Do we still have any chicken?"

"One sec," I said, scrambling up to check.

"We don't have any macaroni and cheese left," Santana complained. "Or microwaveable pizzas."

"Of course we don't," Quinn rolled her eyes. "Those would be the first things we'd run out of."

"There's no ramen noodles. Or Oreos. Or chips," Santana continued pathetically, burying her face into her arm.

"We can always count on Santana to list all the unhealthy things we need to buy," Rachel laughed.

"...We've been out of soda for weeks," she practically cried.

"Santana, I thought you were getting better at this whole fending for yourself thing," Quinn said, dropping her pen and leaning against the counter. Santana made a strange sound that didn't sound like English or Spanish, more just a noise of discontent.

I shut the freezer door and returned to her side, wrapping my arms around her waist. I bent over her, nudging her ear with my nose.

"If you don't cook food, I'm going to have to," I murmured. "And that could be a disaster."

Santana twisted and wrinkled her nose.

"I like dinosaur chicken nuggets."

"Me too," I chimed. "But I don't want to cause a mass extinction of chicken-made dinosaurs."

"That would be a tragedy," Santana replied quietly, smiling weakly at me before she sat up. She took a pen and then grabbed the pad of paper from Quinn.

"Hey!"

"Shut up, Fabray," Santana said as she started to scribble quickly on the piece of paper a variety of vegetables and a few spices. "Do we have potatoes?"

"Where do I find those?" I asked.

"Under the sink?" Santana wrinkled her nose.

"Check the floor of the pantry," Quinn corrected.

"Check the floor of the pantry," Santana repeated as she mimicked Quinn with a scowl on her face.

"When have you ever gotten a potato from beneath the sink?" Quinn asked.

"It's where my abuela stores them," Santana growled.

"That's not good. Leakage from the pipes under the sink could damage them-"

"-Shut up, Rachel, no one asked you," Santana spat.

"I'm just saying that it's potentially hazardous to your health," Rachel continued.

"No potatoes in either place," I announced. "But I made space for them in the pantry."

"Alright. Rachel, are we going to Whole Foods, then? Did you make your list?" Quinn asked. Rachel made a grab for the pad of paper, but Santana pulled it away like Rachel had pulled her plate away earlier.

"I would if Santana wasn't hogging the notepad."

"Hold on! I'm almost finished," Santana scowled.

"Honestly, they are _children_," Quinn groaned and shook her head at me.

"This is going to be fun," I said happily.

* * *

><p>"How is this any better for you than the regular kind?" I asked, staring intently at the can of Whole Foods brand beef ravioli. It didn't make any sense. Not that I had a different can to inspect, but the ingredients listed on the side seemed like what I expected them to say. Canned food was canned food, right? What made it so much better?<p>

"It's probably got less sodium in it," Santana said from across the aisle. Continuing to turn the can in my hands, my face screwed up as I read the label. "I'm sure it tastes better, too, Britt."

"How can anything taste better than Chef Boyardee?" I pouted, wrinkling my nose as I let my hand drop to my side. I slowly looked over the cans before directing my gaze to her. The corner of her mouth twitched as she stared back, her brow narrowing slightly. She licked her lips and glanced down the can for a second. She tried not to smile, and when she did, it was mostly with the one side.

"Are... Are you serious?"

I knew Santana was mostly amused and not mocking me, so I turned to grab as many cans as I could hold. I glanced up at her. "Do you think Quinn will notice if I put seven cans of ravioli in the cart?"

She was holding up different types of cream of mushroom soup. She looked back at me and furrowed her brow.

"I think she'll notice seven," Santana said, her smile breaking the stern expression on her face as she placed one of the cans back on the shelf. In the end, three raviolis still found their way into her basket, but only after she shifted the bread around so they wouldn't squish it. Her hand froze after lifting up the loaf and she picked up a brown container. "And you didn't think I would notice two jars of peanut butter?"

"You had peanut butter on your list," I said softly.

"We don't need two jars of peanut butter," Santana repeated.

"We got two loafs of bread."

"We'll eat two loafs of bread," Santana continued, nodding her head even though she didn't seem to understand. "But one jar of peanut butter is still more than enough."

"I thought we were getting things for each of us," I shrugged.

"We're getting things for the _both_ of us," Santana said, furrowing her brow. She shook her head as she returned her gaze to the shelf and putting one of the cream of mushroom soups back. "We're not shopping as just roommates."

"Oh?" I said, faking ignorance. I turned to continue down the aisle. "And what are we shopping as?"

"As girlfriends..." She sounded a little disheartened as she dropped her hand at her side. I looked back at her when she let out an audible scoff, shaking her head in disbelief. I gave her a devious smirk, and her expression softened immediately.

"You just like hearing me say it," Santana scoffed lightly as she rolled her eyes and caught up with me.

"I love when you say it," I practically purred. The response I received was having the jar of peanut butter shoved into my chest. Not hard. Playful, but definitely not what I had wanted. I'd been prompting her to kiss me, but I guess she wasn't amused by the fact that I'd pretended I didn't realize we were dating. I pouted all the way back to the peanut butter and jelly part of the aisle. It wasn't until I put the jar back that she leaned in and gave me a tiny peck on the cheek.

"Purposefully grabbing two just to get a kiss is pretty cheesy," Santana murmured. I was definitely caught.

"I'd say nutty," I whispered, twisting fast enough to catch her lips before she retracted. It was short and sweet, and just long enough for her to cave in before I pulled away. I wanted more than quick pecks stolen between empty aisles, but I wasn't about to make Santana do something she wasn't comfortable with. It was much easier to encourage her to want it, though.

"What's next on our half of the list?" I said eagerly, snatching the grocery list from Santana's hand. We'd split up from Quinn and Rachel because they were getting all the produce items, and Santana warned me that we should leave because it would take forever. Apparently, they were notorious for being picky shoppers. "Right, cereal."

I quickened my pace back down the aisle. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Santana's slight frown as she tried to keep up.

"Slow down, babe," Santana complained. I immediately slowed to a stop and looked behind me. She did this thing with her lips that was a sort of half-pout, half-smile as she tilted her head to the side and stared up at me. I loved when she called me things other than Brittany. She rarely even said my full name, but it was usually a condensed 'Britt' over anything else. When she caught up, I smiled happily down at her. She took the grocery list from my hand and went on to use her other hand to try to catch the one by my side. I spent several seconds wiggling my fingers around so they barely ghosted against hers, until she hastily grasped my hand and gave it a firm squeeze.

"Stop it," Santana hissed.

"Stop what?"

"Whatever it is you're plotting," she replied softly.

"I'm not-"

"You're all smiles," she laughed. "You are up to something."

She tugged my hand, pulling me closer so she could kiss me. I sighed happily against her lips, wrapping my fingers around hers so they were woven together instead of just wrapped around her palm.

"Mission accomplished," I muttered as I pulled back.

"Shut up," she whispered. Fingers clung to my shirt, pulling my body closer. The way her smile grew ever so slightly when our eyes met and her nose crinkled as her gaze dropped to my mouth. The warmth of her lips on mine still gave me this tingling feeling; like drinking hot cocoa on a cold day. It was tender and flooded my whole body, from her lips to my heart.

I think we both forgot we were in the middle of an aisle in Whole Foods or that we were supposed to be on our way to get cereal. A giggle escaped her throat as I stepped back while tugging her towards me. Playful smooches were attempted to be exchanged as I spun her around. She let out a small, delighted shriek when I dipped her backwards. Despite my firm hold, her fingers dug into my arms as she did her best to keep the contents of our shopping basket from falling to the floor.

I grinned over her, arching my brows slyly as I lowered to kiss her again. She was trying so hard not to laugh. It made it even more difficult to catch her lips when she kept ducking playfully out of the way. I had just caught them when a loud sound chimed from her jacket pocket. It surprised me mostly because it wasn't one of Santana's custom ringtones. I think it surprised her for other reasons, because she suddenly pulled out of my arms and staggered upright.

"Hello?" Santana spoke curiously as she raised her phone to her ear. She glanced up at me and then averted her gaze. "Oh, hola, Abuela. Is everything okay?"

Santana took another step away from me and adjusted the basket on her arm. She licked her lips as the other person, her grandmother I assumed, spoke on the other end. It was hard not to notice she was nervous. Her hand twitched as she smoothed it over her jacket before she lifted it to run her middling finger over the edge of her lips, as if somehow her grandmother could see that her lip gloss was smudged. She caught me gazing at her and smiled for half a second before her attention was drawn back the phone.

"Hm? Abuela, tickets for what?"

Observing a one-sided conversation was always weird, but it was even weirder when Santana switched between Spanish and English. Tickets for what, indeed.

"No sé todavia. No, of course I know when my finals are. Si, Mayo 15. No, no, he planeado nada todavia-"

Santana hesitated, before letting out a loud sigh. She looked back to me and smiled weakly, rolling her eyes. She mouthed, _my grandma_. She held up her index finger and I gave her a warm smile in return. Santana rarely spoke of her family, but maybe that was just because they really never came up in conversation. I knew very little about her grandmother - only that she was there for Santana when Quinn got in a car accident and that Santana mentioned that her grandmother practically raised her.

"-Abuela, no sé todavía. Va a ser muy caro."

She exhaled again, shaking her head this time as she pressed her fingers to her forehead. The conversation sounded serious.

"I know. Solo pienso que por el tiempo que me quedaré, una habitación en un hotel seria demasiado." Santana waited and nodded her head. "Podria dejar que te quedes en mi habitición."

I stepped closer to Santana and could hear the Spanish on the other end of the phone get a little louder.

"No es un gran problema, me quedare en la habitación de Brittany-"

The woman on the other end of the phone seemed to explode with questions. I heard my name repeated amongst a bit of Spanish. Santana lifted her hand and swatted lightly at me as she smiled. It was reassuring.

"Abuela, Brittany es mi compañera de cuarto. Yo te dije que Tina se había mudado." Another pause. _"_Sí, yo sé que no hemos hablado desde ese tiempo. Y te lo estoy diciendo ahora, tenemos una nueva compañera de cuarto. No, ella no esta loca. Por qué tendriamos verificar sus antecedentes? That's insane. Stop it. Sí, nosotros hicimos un anuncio, recuerdas? Te dije-"

Santana's expression dropped into a frown as she stared absently at the shelf across from us.

"Abuela, yo confió en ella. Ella es una buena persona. Ella es una gran comañera de cuarto," Santana said, smiling at me. "A ella no le molestaria si yo me quedo en su cuarto, no es un gran problema. Sí, yo estoy segura. Mira tenemos que ir de compras al supermacado. Podemos hablar de esto luego? Sí, ella está aquí conmigo."

Santana lifted her hand to the phone and covered the bottom.

"My grandmother says hello," she rolled her eyes. Suddenly she dropped her hand from the phone and scowled, "No, you can't talk to her."

"I don't mind," I laughed. "As long as she doesn't mind English."

"Yes, she pays her rent on time! Grandma, we have to go. I'll talk to you later. Yo tambien te quiero. Adiós."

Santana quickly ended the call, holding her phone in front of her for a moment as she stared at it.

"Sorry," she replied, pocketing it before looking up at me and smiling. "She gets a little carried away sometimes."

"She sounds nice," I smiled back.

"Oh, she is not a nice lady," Santana laughed. "But she's a great grandmother."

"So she's your great grandmother or just a great grandmother?"

"My dad's mom," Santana said, lifting her hand and tapping my nose quickly as she turned around. "You knew what I meant."

I wiggled my nose and chased after her, sneaking my hands around her waist as I scooped her off the ground and back into me.

"Hey," she laughed. "What are you doing?"

"Walking," I said, scooting my toes at the back of her heel until I managed to wedge them between her foot and the floor.

"Walking?"

"Yes. Put your feet on mine," I instructed, holding her hands out at our sides. She cautiously repositioned herself and glanced back at me.

"I'm not squishing your toes, am I?"

"Nope."

"You sure?"

"It'll be fun," I laughed. It took a little bit of coordination on the first step and it was extremely slow going, but we managed to get about four tiles ahead when Quinn appeared in front of us with the cart.

"What the heck are you two doing?"

"Walking with one pair of feet," I said, kicking my foot up and forcing Santana's up as well.

"Explains why you're twice as slow," Quinn said. "Whatever, just come on. Rachel spent ten minutes arguing with me over what kind of grapes to buy," Quinn growled. "I just want to get out of this store."

"It's important to have grapes that aren't treated with so many chemicals, _Quinn_," Rachel scowled as she rolled up with her own cart. Her's was significantly less packed than Quinn's, but that was because Quinn had our groceries too. I spied the bag of grapes and giggled as Santana stepped off my feet and pretended like we weren't doing anything childish. Quinn rolled her eyes and opened her mouth like she was about to retort, but Santana caught her arm.

"Quinn, you forgot to grab green onions," Santana said as she sifted through the cart. As Quinn double checked the list, I saw Santana shove the cans of ravioli I put in her basket behind a box of pasta.

"Damn it," Quinn sighed. "I _hate_ shopping with you guys. There are so many more people to keep track of."

"Give me the list," Santana said as Quinn turned the cart around. "Rachel, we'll meet you guys at the frozen food section in a sec, okay?"

Santana exchanged a glance with me and pointed to Quinn before slicing her hand at her neck. I smiled weakly and nodded my head. I guess I was appointed to Rachel.

"Why doesn't Quinn go off on her own if she doesn't want my input? We have separate carts!" Rachel snapped as she pushed it forward.

"I don't know," I said quietly. "But doesn't she usually get your groceries? She should understand better than any one of us what kind of food you eat."

"Exactly!"

"Do you two always argue?" I asked.

"It's not unusual..." Rachel said quietly. "Granted, Santana and Quinn argue more often, but it's not like Quinn and I were always _friends_."

"Is Quinn ever friends with anyone from the start?" I laughed.

"No, not really," Rachel laughed. "Unless you count Puck, and that went from good to bad instead-"

Rachel froze.

"Don't tell her I said that," she said quickly as she turned to me, biting her lower lip. She stared at me for a second before looking back down at the cart. "I still need to get vegenaise spread. Oh, and Ezekiel bread."

I wrinkled my nose and followed Rachel as she guided her cart towards. She obviously didn't want to talk about Puck and Quinn. Why was Puck such a sensitive issue with these girls? Was it the mohawk? I shook my head. Rachel, Quinn... even Santana. They all seemed like such independent people. Why did one person make them all so uncomfortable?

"Did I spy Santana hiding ravioli cans in your cart?"

I looked up at Rachel smiling at me. I hadn't realized we'd already found whatever _vegenaise_ was. She held up a jar before depositing it in her cart.

"Don't tell Quinn," I laughed. "She can't complain if we get it to the checkout line, right?"

"I think that's how Santana's logic works," Rachel nodded. "She usually does the same thing with junk food. Quinn has only made her put food back once, and that's because she somehow managed to get four different types of pop tarts in the cart without Quinn noticing."

I smiled as I picked up the jar of vegenaise. It looked like mayonnaise.

"Can you tell me something else about Santana logic?" I asked as I dropped the jar back in the cart.

"Heh," Rachel huffed and smiled as she shook her head. "I can try."

"If Santana can cook so well, why does she always make you guys cook for her?"

"...I have absolutely no idea," Rachel laughed. "That took us all by surprise, but I think Santana has grown up with a lot of good cooking."

"You know her family?"

"I've heard of them," Rachel nodded. "Why?"

"Are they nice people?"

Rachel paused from pushing the cart and looked up at me.

"Why are you asking me and not Santana?"

"Because," I shrugged. "If someone asked you if your parents were nice people, you'd have a different opinion because they're _your_ parents. Santana said her grandmother was not a nice person."

"Just between you and me?" Rachel said in a hushed voice as she looked up and and down the aisle. "Santana likes to either glorify or debunk the reputation her family has. She'll tell you she grew up in the wrong side of town one minute and then tell you her dad makes enough money to buy a Lamborghini or something the next. I don't think any of us know what's true. Maybe Quinn does."

"That's confusing," I frowned.

"A little," she said. "But I've met Santana's mom. At graduation. She's a very sweet lady. And Santana's grandmother was here in New York when Santana was moving into the apartment."

I looked expectantly at Rachel as we turned down the aisle towards the frozen food.

"Her grandmother is an intimidating woman," Rachel said. "She didn't speak much, and when she did, it was mostly in Spanish. But she wasn't unpleasant. That said, Santana is very close with her grandmother."

"And not with her parents?"

"They don't talk anymore," Rachel sighed. "They wanted her to go to a different school."

"I remember," I nodded.

"They call us sometimes," Rachel shrugged. "Well, they call Quinn. To check up. Santana doesn't know. Or if she does, she doesn't care."

"Santana has a way of caring about things without anyone thinking she cares," I replied, kicking my foot against the floor. Rachel stared at me a moment.

"You have very good insight, Brittany," Rachel nodded. "Maybe that's why she's so attached to you. She can't pretend with you."

Rachel turned and opened a glass door to one of the freezers. She pulled out a loaf of the familiar looking bread Santana and I had tried to eat back at the apartment.

"I wanted to ask before, why is that bread frozen?"

"It's Ezekial bread."

"That doesn't explain why it's a block of ice," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

"It doesn't have preservatives in it-"

"Rachel's not making you buy that, is she?" Quinn asked, rolling her cart up behind us. I turned quickly, only to get caught in Santana's arms.

"Hi," I smiled. Santana grinned and leaned into me.

"Miss me?"

"Always," I replied, finding her hand and tangling my fingers with hers.

"I know I have to buy my own bread, Quinn," Rachel said as she dropped the loaf of icky frozen bread in her cart.

"I was just checking," Quinn said, smiling softly at Rachel. "Sorry for snapping earlier."

"It's okay," Rachel nodded.

"What did you say to her?" I whispered to Santana.

"I didn't say anything," Santana laughed quietly. "I don't care if Berry and Fabray bitch at each other."

"I do," I grinned. "They're kinda cute."

"Ew," Santana grimaced. "Just no."

Santana grasped my hand tighter as she returned to pushing the cart with her free hand. She had a hard time pushing it because it was almost full of groceries, so I used my free hand to help. We only had a few things left on the list, but we walked down every aisle to double check. Quinn and Rachel seemed to be in better spirits now that they had been separated for a bit, and Quinn was even asking Rachel's advice on what kind of rice to buy.

"I'm just going to get enough for all of us," Quinn said as she sifted through the cart to find a good place for the bag. I was just about to ask Santana what kind of bread she liked better for sandwiches, potato or white, when Quinn lifted up the box of pasta. She stared down at the cart and frowned.

"We didn't have ravioli on the shopping list." She looked up at Santana and arched her brow. "And I suppose the chips just found it's way into the cart too?"

"Uh..." Santana paused, glancing up at me for a second. She dropped her hand from mine and gripped the handle bar of the cart. "You see um... Britt, run!"

Before either Quinn or I could stop her, she was tearing down the aisle with the cart. I quickly ran after her, leaving a slightly dazed Quinn behind me. It wasn't hard to catch up with Santana, and when she swerved around the corner, she shouted something about getting to the checkout line.

"Santana! Brittany!" Quinn shouted as she gave chase.

"Slow down, Quinn," Rachel cried.

* * *

><p>A dark brown couch pillow smacked Santana in the face just as she was leaning in to plant her lips on my cheek. She jolted backwards, startled, and quickly snatched the pillow away from her face. Rachel was glowering over us.<p>

"I am so mad at you," Rachel growled.

"Thanks for the update," Santana said, tossing the pillow aside. "Like I didn't already know with you giving us the silent treatment all the way home."

"You _know_ I get all of my groceries from Whole Foods!"

"You still have Trader Joe's," Santana said as she sat up. "And it's just 'cause you have to be all vegan that we can't go to a regular freaking grocery store. It costs so much more to shop there."

"I still can't believe we all got banned from the store because _you two_ were racing to the checkout line," Quinn grumbled from the kitchen.

"You didn't have to run after us," I said quietly, leaning forward from the couch.

"She's just mad they lost," Santana said, sticking out her tongue at Quinn.

"We had the wonky cart with a bad wheel!" Quinn retaliated.

"Ha! So you did want to race," Santana shouted.

"All of you suck!" Rachel scowled. "If you don't like my lifestyle, just go to a different grocery store! I can go shopping on my own!"

I tensed as Rachel stormed off, stomping all the way up the stairs. Santana rolled her eyes as she got up off the couch, and I heard Quinn let out a loud sigh.

"Fix this," Quinn said, pointing the spatula in her hand at Santana. Santana moved to sit at a swivel chair, crossing her arms as she rested against the kitchen island.

"She's mad right now. I'm not about to go poke an angry diva," Santana sighed. "She'll have calmed down by the time Tina and Mike get here."

"Tina and Mike are coming over?" I sat up from my corner of the couch.

"Monday night movies," Santana said as she twisted in her chair. "Tina has off today 'cause Rory's dad is doing some family function at the bar."

I nodded and got up to join them in the kitchen. Santana stretched her arms out wide and motioned for me to come closer, and I complied, getting wrapped up in her arms. I caught Quinn roll her eyes, but also the small smile that appeared on her face as she did so.

"Don't change the subject. You still need to make it up to Rachel," Quinn said.

"I will. I can't fix it right now when she's so mad though," Santana nodded.

"We could make her something vegan for dinner," I suggested. "At least she'll know we're sorry."

"That might help," Santana agreed.

Santana and I spent the better half of an hour googling what exactly we could make with our newly acquired groceries. Although we'd been scolded and banned from Whole Foods for the chaotic cart race we had, they still let us purchase our food. Santana settled on some sort of pasta, and started to bustle about while Quinn and I sifted through the DVD rack next to the TV to find a good movie for tonight.

"Knock knock." Mike's voice came from the front door as it opened. He stepped inside, followed quickly by Tina, carrying two boxes of pizza.

"Mike!" I cheered, hopping up and scattering DVD cases all over the floor as I scrambled to give him a hug. He grinned and handed the pizzas to Quinn as he leaned back from my weight.

"Pasta and pizza," Santana observed. "Sounds like a good combo."

"Do you still have a key, Tina?" Quinn frowned.

"It's the spare," Tina announced as she held up the spare key.

"Oh, where do we keep that?" I asked. "Not that I've locked myself out. Yet."

"The mailbox," Quinn said.

"But we need a key to open the mailbox," I groaned.

"I keep my mail key separate," Quinn said. "But I suppose it'd be easier just to let Tina have the spare key in the event of an emergency."

"You trust me enough with that?" Tina asked, walking past to the kitchen.

"Enough to live with you for a year and a half already," Quinn laughed.

"Hey, chickadee," Tina said, squeezing Santana's arm as she moved to the refrigerator. She placed a 2-liter bottle of Pepsi inside. "Heard you got banned from Whole Foods."

"How did you know?" Santana frowned.

"Facebook," Tina shrugged. "Rachel's mad."

"God," Santana groaned.

"She'll get over it. We can watch Wizard of Oz to make it up to her," Mike said after twirling me around in a circle.

"I love that movie!" I cheered.

"I hate that movie," Santana groaned.

"The book was better," Quinn said, nodding her head.

"I didn't know it was a book," Tina said.

* * *

><p>Pizza boxes and paper plates lay strewn across the floor. Once the movie ended, a half-asleep and still slightly grumpy Rachel bumbled her way up the stairs, escorted by an equally tired looking Quinn. Santana sat in her place, unable to move because a blonde beauty was fast asleep in her lap. She contentedly stroked her fingers through her girlfriend's hair, smiling in spite of the last angry glare Rachel had shot her on her way to bed.<p>

"Mm," Mike exhaled as he stretched. Tina sleepily sat up, narrowly avoiding her boyfriend's arms. "We should probably help clean up."

"You guys are more than welcome to crash here for the night," Santana said in a hushed voice.

"I think someone already claimed the couch," Tina replied, gesturing to the long expanse of Brittany's legs that were stretched over the remaining cushions. Santana nodded, carefully maneuvering her own legs out from beneath the girl's head. She knelt down and gave the sleeping dancer a kiss on the cheek before joining Tina and Mike in gathering the trash from the room.

Santana grabbed a plastic cup as Tina stood up and smiled at her. She glanced around and her brow furrowed.

"What?"

"You were smiling like a fool," Tina laughed. "I take it you're not bothered enough by Rachel to let it dampen your Brittany high?"

"I'm not on a Brittany high," Santana scowled, snatching the plastic bag from Tina's hand and shoving the cup inside it.

"You have been ever since she moved in," Tina said, crossing her arms as Santana shuffled past her to grab more plates. "I'm surprised you haven't come back down yet. In fact, I thought you were afraid of heights."

"You said you'd take that to the grave," Santana growled through gritted teeth as she snapped up to point her finger at Tina. Tina laughed, unfazed by Santana's threatening hand.

"I'm just saying. I like smiling-for-no-good-reason Santana. I like her a lot better than forcing-herself-to-smile-because-she-noticed-someone-was-looking Santana," Tina replied, shrugging her shoulders as she took the plastic bag back from Santana. "You've changed a lot."

"I have not," Santana groaned. "You guys need to stop saying that."

"It's not a bad thing," Tina said. "I mean, you call me less. I was expecting to get texts and phone calls every night after I moved out. I hardly hear from you anymore."

"I'm... sorry," Santana muttered. She looked down at Brittany, and a weak, but warm smile spread over her lips. "It's just..."

"You've been busy falling in love, I get it," Tina said, pressing her hand against Santana's back. Mike stepped forward and took the bag of trash from Tina and smiling brightly. Tina twisted and looked up at him. "Do you still look at me like that when I'm asleep?"

"Every night," Mike nodded.

"Don't lie, half the time you fall asleep before I do," Tina said, whisking past both of them to the stairwell. "I'm going to say bye to Quinn and Rachel." Mike and Santana stared after her, watching quietly as Tina disappeared up the stairs. Mike let out a low groan and shook his head the moment Tina was out of earshot.

"Keeping your girlfriend happy twenty-four seven is really hard," he sighed. "They always have to be right."

"I don't know that I have that problem," Santana chuckled. "Yet, anyway."

Mike stood at Santana's side for a moment, his hands resting in his pockets as they silently observed Brittany. She moved, only once, to rub her face into her arm as she twisted to roll onto her stomach.

"Looks like she misses her snuggle buddy," Mike said.

"Jeremy is upstairs," Santana said seriously, crossing her arms over her chest. She glanced up at Mike and saw him grinning, and she smiled back.

"Trying to figure out how to get her upstairs?" Mike asked. "I can carry her if you want."

"No, it's okay. It'll go one of two ways," Santana replied, her smile broadening as she gazed down at her girlfriend. She leaned down to brush Brittany's hair back out of her face. "I'll wake her up and she'll sleepily let me drag her butt up to bed, mumbling and tripping all the way up the stairs... Or she'll whimper and complain, biting her lip while catching me around the waist to trap me in a bear hug just to keep me from moving her."

She stared down at Brittany for a second longer before looking back up at Mike.

"Either way, I'm perfectly satisfied with the end result," she whispered. She lifted the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over Brittany's body, careful to cover her feet too. Mike ruffled Santana's hair lightly. She swatted his hand quickly and fixed her hair.

"Just figured I would offer," Mike said cheerfully, taking a step backwards at the scowl Santana wore. It faded, and Santana smiled pleasantly again.

"Thanks," she replied, dragging her fingers over Brittany's temple one last time before she stood up straight. "We should let her sleep and finish cleaning."

Mike nodded, and the two silently made their way back to the kitchen. Although initially impressed by Santana's proposition to clean, Mike was not at all surprised that Santana ended up seating herself at one of the bar stool chairs in front of the kitchen island as he was left with the remaining dishes.

"How have your classes been?" he asked with his back facing her.

"Things have been picking up a bit, because the end of the semester is still like a month away, but that means finals, finals, finals," Santana mumbled, pressing her cheek against her open palm as she poked and prodded a fork across the counter. Mike stretched and picked it up off the counter before it slide to the edge. Santana sat up and watched as Mike returned to the sink.

"You think they'll be hard? Your finals?"

"I hope not. I'm mostly worried about my independent study," she sighed. "But luckily Brittany's helping me with it..."

Mike glanced back at her, a wide grin growing on his lips.

"Helping how?"

"With choreography," Santana shrugged. She waved her hand at him, tilting her head away to hide a smile. "It's nothing special."

"Mm," he nodded, focusing back on the plate in his hand. "You know, Tina's right."

"About?"

"It's nice seeing you smile," Mike said, chuckling lightly. Santana flushed and lowered her gaze. "Even if you're embarrassed about it."

"Well, people smile when they're happy. It's like... a natural reaction," Santana grumbled.

"Glad you have things to be happy about again, Santana," he laughed. "Although I sort of missed it at Mercedes' party on Friday."

"Hm?" Santana looked up at him. She dropped both hands against the counter and shook her head. "Yeah, that was weird. Sorry. Puck was just getting on my nerves."

"Any particular reason why?" Mike wiped his hands dry on a towel and leaned against the counter as he turned to face her.

"You know, just... He keeps pushing," Santana sighed, raising her hand to her forehead. "He doesn't get it."

"Get what?"

"That I don't like him," Santana said. "I'm not saying, 'no, try harder,' I'm saying, 'no, I'm not interested.'"

Mike nodded as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, you know, I'm friends with both of you," Mike said, pushing away from the counter. "And it's not that I don't think that should be enough - you saying no. But I don't think Puck's all that concerned about that."

"What do you mean?" Santana said, narrowing her eyes.

"You've been pushing him away, completely. He's been back for months now, and you haven't really spent any time with him," Mike said quietly. "I know you two aren't dating anymore, but he's been beating himself up with what happened at the party."

"Well, he shouldn't have been so aggressive about it," Santana snapped. "He kept dragging me away from Brittany."

"Who he has no idea you're even dating," Mike replied cautiously, almost under his breath, as though he were afraid to speak too loudly. "He feels bad that you got so upset, Santana, but he doesn't have any clue _why_. And I know that it's hard for you to talk about stuff, this kind of stuff, especially with him... but you do need to talk to him."

"I'm going to," Santana sighed, looking to the dining table. "I am. It's just hard."

"I'm not saying you need to tell him about you and Brittany," Mike said. "But you do have to talk to him. Just set the record straight. He still thinks something is there."

"Set the record straight," Santana scoffed. "Ironic."

"There's a lot of bad blood between all of you. Quinn and Rachel too," Mike sighed. "But you've been able to put it behind you before, right?"

"Yeah," Santana exhaled. "Yeah, we have. I'll talk with him the next time I see him."

She had twisted in her chair, looking back to the living room. She stared quietly at Brittany, quite the opposite of absent-minded.

* * *

><p>I inhaled deeply as cool hands found their way to my stomach. I blinked, but the darkness of the room was the same as when I closed my eyes.<p>

"Shh," Santana whispered softly, lifting me up off the couch. I felt my body flounder for a second as I reached out for something that I couldn't see. My vision started to clear as I grasped the hands that had warmed since their initial touch to my body.

"Hey," she cooed. "It's okay, it's just me."

"Santana," I breathed. I felt my body relax immediately, and she let out a little 'oof' as she nearly dropped me back on the couch. I sleepily tried to sit up to help, but only managed to somehow tangle us together in the blanket that covered me. She laughed as we both struggled to tear our legs free. Once we'd managed to rid our bodies of the blanket, she twisted to her side. She managed to pull the blanket back over us and kissed my nose.

"Hi," I whispered. "Did I fall asleep?"

"You did," Santana replied, dragging her hand through my hair.

"Where did everyone go?" I asked, groggily turning my head to look out at the dark room.

"Home," Santana whispered. I looked back at her and smiled. She was fiddling with the tips of my hair. Even though it was dark and I was tired, I could tell her own smile seemed half-hearted. I leaned forward and kissed her properly. She seemed surprised by it at first, but after a pause, she seemed to melt into me. Or had I melted into her?

"You okay?" I asked. My lips brushed hers as I spoke, and again when she laughed.

"Yeah," she murmured. "Yeah... Ever just feel like your heart aches from loving someone a lot?"

"Mm," I nodded, feeling my nose bump against hers. I realized I couldn't see her anymore because I had closed my eyes. I could still hear her breathing, so I had to be awake. I nuzzled against her, feeling my cheek brush past hers as I instinctively nestled myself into the crook of her neck. I slipped my hand from her arm to her chest, placing it as gently as I could over the space that made the tiny thump-thumps that made my own heart flutter.

"It's called a heart attack," I murmured.

"...Yeah?" Santana breathed. She huffed and pulled me closer.

"Mm-hmm..." I tried to nod again. "Do you need me to take you to the hospital...?"

"I think I'll manage," she whispered. The last thing I knew before falling asleep was that she kissed my forehead.

* * *

><p>"-I swear, no one ever even comes in on Wednesdays other than that old man," Santana sighed as she slipped past the bar to fill a new glass with ice. "What's his deal, anyway?"<p>

"He's actually a really nice guy," Tina said, sliding into the chair in front of her. "Lonely, but nice. From what I know, anyway. He tells funny stories. Shouldn't you know more about him? You're the bartender."

"I've only been doing this for so long," Santana said, wrinkling her nose. "And he always sits over in the corner there. It's not like we talk."

"He likes you," Tina said, propping her chin with her hand. "He told me once he prefers you over Rory to mix his drinks."

"He only ever drinks a Tom Collins," Santana said as she poured gin into the glass. "It's not that hard to master something he orders _every_ day."

"At least he tips well," Tina said.

"Yeah," Santana nodded. She silently continued to pour ingredient to the glass, garnishing it with a cherry and orange before sliding it to Tina. "Give him that, will you?"

"Maybe I should make you take it to him," Tina said, sticking out her tongue. "Get to know him a little."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Santana grimaced.

"Suit yourself," Tina shrugged and twisted around to deliver the drink. Santana leaned against the counter, looking out quietly at the near empty bar. Her phone buzzed against the inside of the counter, and she smiled.

_Would it be okay? - Britt-Britt_

Santana tilted her head to the side, watching as three dots appeared underneath the message signalling that her girlfriend was still typing a message.

_Would it be okay? - Britt-Britt_

Santana's brow furrowed at the repeated message, but the dots continued.

_If I took your breath away...? - Britt-Britt_

Santana's confused frown vanished as a smile replaced it. She immediately started to type a response, but a moment later, another message popped up. But instead of displaying a text message, it was a bubble with a picture in it. Not a picture, no, a video. Santana looked up again at the empty room before returning her attention to her phone. She tapped the play button, and after a moment of loading, Brittany's face popped up on the screen. She was laughing and the camera was shaky. Santana could make out another person behind her.

_"Okay okay, it's on," Brittany squealed. Rachel appeared from behind her, swatting the spatula in her hand at Brittany._

_ "Do it again," Rachel shouted with a grin on her face. Brittany shook her head vigorously. _

_ "Please don't make me do it again," Brittany laughed. She turned to face the camera as Rachel attacked her with a bear hug. "Santana help! Rachel's making me sing!"_

_ "She has to," Rachel shouted. "You got me banned from Whole Foods!"_

_ "I said I was sorry!"_

_ "Sorry doesn't buy me groceries!"_

_ "It's Santana's fault!" Brittany cried._

"What is that?" Tina asked, popping up next to Santana. Santana had her hand clasped to her mouth to hold back the fit of giggles that was taking over her body. She shook her head and just nodded at the screen.

_"Santana will get what's coming to her, too," Rachel scowled. "You promised to sing it again!"_

_ "Fine! Fine! Okay!" Brittany straightened up a bit, clamping her hands at her sides. She appeared to tremble a bit, and Rachel squeezed her again._

_ "I-," she squeaked. "I've never seen... a smile that can light the room like yours..."_

"Is she singing to you? Or because Rachel's making her?" Tina asked. "This is cute. She looks so nervous!"

"Rachel's making her, of course she's nervous," Santana said through her hand. "Oh my god, she's so embarrassed."

"You're embarrassed for her!" Tina said, snapping up. "Oh my god, you're so red!"

"Sh-shut up!"

_Brittany was tapping her hands at her side like she was trying to keep a beat, even though her arms were still squashed at her sides by Rachel's embrace. She nervously looked up at the ceiling as she sang. _

_"It's simply radiant... I feel more with every day that goes by..." _

_Rachel let go of her and took a step backwards, and Brittany immediately lifted her hands to cover her face._

_"Keep going," Rachel scolded._

_"I watch the clock to make my timing just right," she half sang, half murmured. "Would it be okay? Would it be okay...? If I took your breath away?"_

_Brittany's face was bright red now, even her ears were a tinged a few shades darker. Rachel laughed and placed her hands on Brittany's shoulders, swaying her back and forth. _

_"And I'm wasting away, away from you," Rachel sang encouragingly. _

_"And I'm wasting away, away from you..." Brittany repeated, nodding and slowly lowering her hands to peek at the camera. "What have I... gotten into... this time around?"_

"I don't know this song," Tina shook her head. Santana swatted at her.

"Shh!"

_"I know that I had sworn... I'd never trust anyone again, but I didn't have to..." Brittany sang, gulping nervously as her eyes shifted from the camera to glancing back at Rachel. "You had me at Hello."_

_"You gave me butterflies at the mailbox," Rachel sang softly._

_"You had me at Hello," Brittany repeated. _

_"Good enough," Rachel said, finally letting go of Brittany to turn around and return her attention to the stove. Brittany scrambled forward and grabbed the camera. _

_"She wouldn't let me dance!" Brittany cried, and then the camera shut off._

Santana had finally caved to the laughter that was bubbling in her chest. She had to hold herself up by gripping the side of the counter. She was a little afraid of what sort of embarrassing punishment Rachel had in store for her, but she was also positive she was going to go home and pepper her girlfriend's face with kisses to make up for the second hand embarrassment she was feeling.

"Oh my God, poor Brittany," Santana giggled, carefully dabbing her finger at the corner of eye to avoid smudging her mascara.

"I know, it's like Rachel knew that song would be the most embarrass_ing_-!" Tina's voice rose a pitch as she straightened. "-Puck!"

Santana shot upright as well, greeted by a concerned and confused looking Puck. He was seated across from them at the counter, and the arch of his eyebrow meant he'd been there long enough to witness them doubling over with laughter.

"What's so funny...?" he glanced between them and then to the phone in Santana's hand.

"R-Rachel made Brittany sing," Tina said quickly. Santana shot her a glare.

"That's funny because...?" Puck didn't seem to follow.

"She's a dance major, not a singer," Santana said, shoving Tina lightly. "You should get back to your post if people are coming in."

"I'm not just a 'people'," Puck said as Tina brushed past him on her way out from behind the bar.

"That would be because you're a person, not a 'people'," Santana said, rolling her eyes.

"Obviously not the _person_ you wanted to talk to," Puck replied, leaning back in his seat. Santana froze mid-turn, and glanced up at him. She shook her head and sighed.

"Sorry," Santana murmured. "Of course I want to talk to you."

"Yeah? You don't act like it," Puck sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked to the side, tilting his head back in exasperation.

"I've had a weird... whatever. Month? Semester, even," Santana shook her head and turned as she brought her phone back up to type a response to Brittany.

_It's definitely okay, babe. :3 Can't talk right now, okay? I'll be home soon. - _

When she finished typing, Santana looked back up to Puck. He was still seated in the chair, pretending not to give her any attention. She sighed and pocketed her phone.

"Do you want something to drink?" she asked as politely as she knew how. "On me?"

Puck glanced at her, held his gaze a moment, and then slowly sat forward.

"A coke," he mumbled.

"Rum and coke, got it," Santana repeated with a tiny smirk.

"Just a coke," Puck corrected.

"Last I heard, guys couldn't get pregnant," Santana said as she dropped a few cubes of ice in the glass.

"I wanna talk."

"We are talking," Santana said with a smile.

"I want to _talk_," Puck repeated. "And you get off soon."

"Oh." Santana paused over the glass. She looked up and past him to where Tina stood at the host kiosk. She was speaking with customers - no chance of avoiding a _talk_ with Puck. She could call or text Brittany, think up some excuse.

"Is that okay?" Puck asked, snapping Santana out of her thoughts. She looked down at him as he gazed sheepishly up at her. "I mean, you're mad at me, right? I don't want to bother you if you're still pissed off."

"I'm not mad at you," Santana said, wrinkling her nose.

"You're mad about something," Puck said. "And you only seem mad when I'm around. There's a correlation."

"I'm not mad," Santana repeated. "I'm just..."

The wave of a hand from the end of the bar caught Santana's eye. She smiled weakly at Puck and backed up a step.

"Annoyed is too strong of a word," Santana said as she lifted the glass of coke up to the counter. "But it's the only one I've got. Can this wait until I get off?"

"...Yeah, sure," Puck nodded.

"I'll be back."

* * *

><p>"I'm surprised it's not raining," Puck said, stepping along the sidewalk next to Santana. She stared up at the sky and gave a tiny nod. It was late, and not a lot of people were out, but there were still a few lights that kept the street aglow. They walked along in silence for a bit longer, before Puck spun around and smiled.<p>

"Three years ago, did you ever think either one of us would be living in New York?"

"No," Santana replied. She jammed her hands in her coat pockets as she smiled at him. "Three years ago, this time of year, I was sure I was going to be stuck in Lima forever."

"What about me?"

"I don't know what I thought you were going to do," Santana shrugged. "Pool cleaning in L.A. was the dream then, wasn't it?"

"Sad, right?"

"Little bit," Santana chuckled. "More of a dream than I had."

"Nah," Puck said, elbowing her arm lightly. "You've always had the dream, just not the balls to believe in it."

"Is that so?" she replied, arching her brow.

"Yeah, I mean," Puck shrugged. "I know you. Everyone knows you're a great singer, even you do. But you don't _believe_ that you can go anywhere with it."

Santana kicked at the ground, remaining silent.

"You know we all believe in you, right?" Puck said, looking up at her. "We- No, I make jokes sometimes. At your expense. Like at the party, I didn't mean to make a big deal out of you not singing. Dreams change, right? I mean, you've changed. I'm sure your dreams are different too."

Santana stopped in her tracks and looked after Puck as he kept shuffling forward. He stopped and turned to lean against a parking meter, his hands jammed in his pockets for more reasons than the cool night breeze.

"Have I changed that much?" Santana asked, leaning against the wall of the building across from him.

"Different than from when I left a year ago," Puck replied.

"I like that I'm different," Santana admitted.

"I didn't say it was bad," Puck sighed. "Just, that you are. Not saying I don't miss how it used to be."

"And how did it used to be?" she asked quietly, as if she didn't want to know the answer.

"A year ago, you wanted to get out of here," Puck chuckled. "I offered to let you join my band. We were going to go everywhere. Travel. Play gigs. Screw around."

"Sounds downright glorious," Santana scoffed. She caught herself and shook her head. "I mean... it _did_ have a certain appeal."

"That offer always stands, Santana," Puck said sheepishly.

"I want a degree, Puck, I told you then," she said with the same stern look she'd given him a year ago.

"...You know I'm sorry about that." Puck looked up at her and pushed away from the parking meter. "I know an education means something to you. I didn't get it then, 'cause I'm not in school. But you're right, eventually I'm going to need someone to record my music, right? I didn't mean to make you feel like you weren't pursuing your dreams. You are."

"I'm not," Santana chuckled. "I am, but I'm also not. And it's fine, Puck, we just chose different paths."

Puck stepped closer. He looked down at Santana with a calm smile.

"I gotta admit, I wish those paths would meet again."

"Puck..." Santana murmured. She scooted to the side against the wall.

"It's not ever going to happen, is it?"

"No," Santana said softly. He sighed and twisted around to lean against the wall next to her.

"Can I at least know why?"

Santana stared down at her feet, pressing the tips of her toes together as she appeared to search the cement sidewalk for answers. There were blackened marks from residue of whatever had fallen on it, but no words to find their way to her mouth. She tilted her head back to look up at the top of the buildings again.

"There are a million reasons why, Puck," Santana sighed. "But the main one is... I could never love you the way you loved me."

"You don't know that-"

"I do, I do know that," Santana replied, looking over to him sadly. "Puck, I wanted to. I tried to..."

"Then what-"

"Puck, let me... just let me get this out, okay?" Santana lifted her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. "It's still really hard for me to say, but there's not any easy way for me to say it. Puck, I like... girls."

The last syllable from her tongue felt like it lingered in the air. Maybe not a tangible object, but a presence in it's own right. For a second, there was silence. Then, Santana braved seeking out eye contact. She looked up at him to see his brow furrowed in confusion, but a wave of relief washed over her. He was confused, but his expression was anything but angry.

"Puck... I wanted to tell you so many times," she continued. "I mean, for years, it was about saving face and just... I couldn't even admit it to myself, and just... It's been this constant internal struggle, you know?"

She shook her head and let out a small laugh.

"No, of course you don't know. It's... I was never _happy_ before. With you. I was lying to myself and everyone else, trying not to be eaten alive in high school. But I got so used to hiding how I felt, it was easier just to stay that way." Santana twisted her fingers nervously in her hands. Puck wasn't talking. He was just leaning against the wall, caught in a daze. One moment, she'd been at a loss at words. The next, she was saying everything at once, but nothing felt like the right thing to say. The only thing that ever felt right was Brittany.

"You're so important to me, Puck. That's why it was so hard to tell you. You've always been honest with me, even though I've always lied to you," she continued. "What I'm trying to say is... I was just never happy. Because I was lying. With Brittany, I don't have to lie about how I feel. I just am. I'm me."

Puck shifted, and Santana looked up.

"...Brittany?"

"Yes," Santana nodded.

"Brittany is your...?"

"My girlfriend, yeah," Santana breathed. She looked down, slowly taking her phone from her pocket. She smiled weakly as she swiped her finger at the screen. "I never thought anyone could make me so happy. She's funny and sweet, and a little bit of a dork, but-"

"Your roommate," Puck interjected. He sounded a bit distant, as though he hadn't heard anything she just said. "The girl you met barely two months ago?"

Santana looked up. Her smile faded at his tone of voice.

"You're banging some chick you barely know, and I'm supposed to just... what?" Puck tossed his hand up in the air as he twisted away. "Fuck, Santana."

"Puck, I'm not _banging some chick_, Brittany is my girlfriend," Santana said defensively. She took a step forward and furrowed her brow. "I... I _love_ her."

"Love...?"

Santana hesitated, scanning his expression for a moment to gauge her response.

"Yes," she admitted, puffing out her chest a bit. "I love her. God... Puck, I didn't even know what love _was_ before her."

Puck lifted his hand to his forehead as he shook it, taking a step away from her only to double back. He didn't appear to have any direction, just the need to propel his body forward.

"And what? What do you want from me, Santana? To forget that the last four or five years didn't happen? That none of it mattered? Well, it mattered to me. You want me to just be okay with the fact that you can throw away our entire history over a girl you _just_ met? Is that it?"

"You're overreacting!"

"What the fuck did _you_ expect?"

"-I expect you to support me!" Santana shouted.

"Support you?" Puck recoiled. "You fucking lied to me, Santana. Not over something small like a missed date or some shit, but the whole damn thing. The whole fucking thing was a lie!"

"That is not true," Santana snapped, pushing away from the wall. "I-"

"You know what, no," Puck snapped, tossing his hand out to the street. "If I'd have come back two months ago and you told me then instead of pulling me to the back of the bar to make out, then maybe I'd have a little sympathy."

"_You_ were the one that pulled me to the back of the bar-"

"It doesn't matter, Santana," Puck shouted. He exhaled heavily and took a step backwards. "You should have said something then. You said so yourself, you've been struggling with it for a long time. Why did you have to keep stringing me along with you?"

Santana's shoulders fell slightly as her gaze dropped to the ground. She could hear his heavy breathing as he waited for a reply. There was nothing she could think of to say.

"You made me feel like I was important in your life," Puck said. "Fuck, Santana, do you know how much that meant to me? After high school, I felt like such a fucking loser, and then... Damn it!"

Puck twisted around, clenching his fists. She tensed, waiting for him to shout again. Instead, he let out a loud sigh and shook his head.

"Heh," he scoffed. "I hope she can handle it."

Santana's brow furrowed as she looked up to catch his gaze.

"Dating someone like you. Shit, Santana, you're still just... you really had me going, thinking you'd changed," Puck sighed. "I guess the most you've changed is back to that self-centered bitch from high school. But now you're a liar, too."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

** Who was the fool...?**

Puck's Song: Your Biggest Fan by Never Say Never

Brittany's Song: You Had Me At Hello by A Day to Remember

* * *

><p>English Translation of Santana's phone call with her abuela:<p>

"Hello?" Santana spoke curiously as she raised her phone to her ear. She glanced up at me and then averted her gaze. "_Oh, hi grandma._ Is everything okay?"

Santana took another step away from me and adjusted the basket on her arm. She licked her lips as the other person, her grandmother I assumed, spoke on the other end. It was hard not to notice she was nervous. Her hand twitched as she smoothed it over her jacket before she lifted it to run her middling finger over the edge of her lips, as if somehow her grandmother could see that her lip gloss was smudged. She caught me gazing at her and smiled for half a second before her attention was drawn back the phone.

"Hm? _Grandma_, tickets for what?"

Observing a one-sided conversation was always weird, but it was even weirder when Santana switched between Spanish and English. Tickets for what, indeed.

"_I don't know yet._ No, of course I know when my finals are. _Yeah, May 15th. No, I haven't planned anything yet-_"

Santana hesitated, before letting out a loud sigh. She looked back to me and smiled weakly, rolling her eyes. She mouthed, _my grandma_. She held up her index finger and I gave her a warm smile in return. Santana rarely spoke of her family, but maybe that was just because they really never came up in conversation. I knew very little about her grandmother - only that she was there for Santana when Quinn got in a car accident and that Santana mentioned that her grandmother practically raised her.

"_-Grandma, I don't know yet. It's going to be really expensive._"

She exhaled again, shaking her head this time as she pressed her fingers to her forehead. The conversation sounded serious.

"I know. _I just think that for that much time, a hotel room is too much_." Santana waited and nodded her head. "_I could let you stay in my room?_"

I stepped closer to Santana and could hear the Spanish on the other end of the phone get a little louder.

"_It's not that big a deal, I'll just crash in _Brittany's_ room-_"

The woman on the other end of the phone seemed to explode with questions. I heard my name repeated amongst a bit of Spanish. Santana lifted her hand and swatted lightly at me as she smiled. It was reassuring.

"Brittany _is my roommate, Grandma. I told you, Tina moved out-_" Another pause. _"__I know we haven't spoken since then. I'm telling you now, we have a new roommate. No, she's not crazy. Why would we do a background check on her?_ That's insane. Stop it. _Yes, we made an ad, remember? I told you-_"

Santana's expression dropped into a frown as she stared absently at the shelf across from us.

"_Grandma, I trust her, okay? She's a good person. She's a great roommate_," Santana said, smiling at me. "_She won't mind if I crash in her room, it's not a big deal. Yes, I know for sure. Look, we're grocery shopping. Can we talk about this later? Yes, she's right here with me._"

Santana lifted her hand to the phone and covered the bottom.

"My grandmother says hello," she rolled her eyes. Suddenly she dropped her hand from the phone and scowled, "No, you can't talk to her."

"I don't mind," I laughed. "As long as she doesn't mind English."

"Yes, she pays her rent on time! Grandma, we have to go. I'll talk to you later. _I love you too. Bye._"


End file.
